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JOURNEYINGS 


— IN  — 


THE  OLD  WOELD; 

/ 


— OR, — 

Europe,  Palestine,  and  E^ypt, 

EMBRACING 


Ireland,  Scotland,  England,  France,  Italy,  Greece,  Turkey,  Syria,  The 
Holy  Land,  and  Egypt,  together  with  many  Cities  and  Other 
Places  Kenowned  in  Sacred  and  Profane  History,  with 
Personal  Observations  and  Incidents,  and  the 
Results  of  the  Latest  Explorations 
in  Bible  Lands, 

anb  Biier  100  CijoitB  SUustratbits. 


BY  / 


JAMES  W/HOTT,  D.  D., 

Editok  Religious  Telescope. 


INTRODUCTION  BY 

BENJ.  ST.  JAMES  FRY,  D.  D., 

Editor  Centbal  Christian  Advocate. 


DAYTON,  OHIO: 

United  Brethren  Publishing  House. 

1884. . 


Copyright,  1884, 

By  Rev.  W.  J.  Shuey, 


TO  THE 


MANY  VERY  DEAR 
FEIEXDS  WITH  W'HOM  IT 
HAS  PLEASED  OUR  LOVING  LORD 
IN  HIS  ABUNDANT  MERCY  TO  BLESS  THE 
tlFE-JOURNEYlNGS  OF  HIS  UNWORTHY  SERVANT, 

AND 

TO  ALL  WHO 
HAVE  EXPERIENCED 
LIKE  INTEREST  IN  THE  PAST 
AND  PRESENT  CIVILIZATION  OF  EUROPE 
AND  THE  EXPLORATION  AND  DISCOVERIES  IN  BIBLE  LANDS, 
THIS  VOLUME 

IS  MOST  AFFECTIONATELY  DEDICATED  BY  THE 

iiUTHOR, 

IN  THE  LOVE  OF  OUR 
LORD  AND  SAVIOR  JESUS  CHRIST, 

TO  WHOM  BE  ALL  GLORY  THROUGHOUT  ALL  AGES. 


PREFACE. 


most  distinguished  Christian  thinker  and  orator  says,  “Thera 
are  now  no  hermit  nations.”  The  developments  of  Chris- 
tianity  in  the  nineteenth  century  have  taught  the  world  the 
truthfulness  and  meaning  of  the  brotherhood  of  man.  The  facil- 
ities of  inter-communication  have  made  foreign  nations  our  neigh- 
bors. Investigations  of  the  philosophy  of  history  have  made  our 
age  to  look  wonderingly  back  upon  the  ages  and  civilizations  from  which 
our  civilization  has  sprung.  We  have  a ceaseless  and  growing  interest 
in  the  history  of  nations  and  the  biography  of  mighty  men.  The  na- 
tions that  were  have  pa.ssed  from  their  career  of  glory.  The  people 
who  press  the  soil  of  countries  hallowed  by  their  graves  are  working 
out,  with  us,  the  old  problems  of  the  world’s  history  by  new  methods. 
Thus  it  becomes  us  to  place  the  past  and  present  side  by  side.  It  is  ex- 
ceedingly interesting  and  profitable  for  one  to  do  so  by  personal  travel, 
and  by  visitation  of  the  scenes  where  the  first  links  which  entered  into 
the  endless  chain  of  history  were  forged.  It  is  only  less  interesting  and 
instructive  in  our  own  quiet  home  to  follow  others  in  their  journey- 
ings,  while  we  are  spared  the  toil  and  fatigue  of  foreign  travel.  The 
desire  to  afford  others  the  pleasure  and  profit  of  such  a pursuit  has 
produced  this  volume. 

The  author  of  these  pages  did  not  travel  as  a specialist, — for  trav- 
eling is  not  his  profession, — nor  with  a view  of  studying  the  philosophy 
of  historic  events.  He  went  abroad  as  a Christian  to  meet  the  duties 
assigned  him  as  a member  of  a Christian  society.  In  Ireland,  Scotland, 
England,  and  continental  Europe,  he  traveled  with  an  open  eye,  inquis- 
itive mind,  and  the  susceptible  heart  of  an  American. 

The  writer  has  not  aimed  merely  to  tell  a pleasing  story,  but  to  so 
connect  historic  fact  and  incident  with  places  visited,  and  with  the 
present  appearances  and  conditions  of  these  scenes,  as  to  make  his 

V 


VI 


PREFACE. 


book  really  worth  reading.  Tins  plan  has  been  followed  through  the 
several  pjirts  of  the  book.  During  the  writer’s  journeyings  in  the 
Holy  Land,  it  was  his  custom  before  visiting  a place  to  read  what- 
ever portions  of  the  Bible,  in  any  direct  way,  stand  associated  with 
that  particular  locality.  The  reading  was  repeated  when  on  the  ground 
and  the  passages  marked,  as  given  in  this  work.  The  design  of  the 
book  is  to  thus  locate  and  connect,  in  the  mind,  Bible  events  and 
holy  teachings  with  places,  rivers,  lakes,  mountains,  hills,  plains,  and 
valleys  that  are  still  to  be  looked  upon  by  the  traveler  in  Bible  lands. 

In  the  preparation  of  the  first,  second,  and  third  parts  of  the  book 
the  writer  most  freely  acknowledges  his  indebtedness  to  various  hand- 
books for  travelers,  histories,  biographies,  and  many  poetical  works, 
which  were  read  and  studied  to  great  profit.  Many  historic  facts  were 
suggested  by  these  books,  without  which  a journey  would  be  tedious 
and  barren  in  these  lands.  The  writer  relied  largely  upon  them  for 
measurements  and  dates;  but  when  found  inaccurate,  as  thoroughly 
tested  by  standard  authorities,  they  have  been  departed  from.  A like 
debt  is  due  to  many  monuments  and  slabs,  from  which  inscriptions 
were  copied  by  the  writer’s  own  hand. 

The  })reparation  of  the  pages  describing  Syria,  the  Holy  Land,  and 
Egypt  has  employed  the  writer’s  closest  attention  for  many  months. 
No  claim  is  laid  to  discovery  or  exploration  by  the  author.  He  visited 
in  all  parts  of  Syria,  Palestine,  and  Egypt;  and  what  others  have  seen 
or  can  see  in  the  course  of  travel,  he  saw. 

It  is  a matter  of  painful  regret  that  the  lands  of  the  Bible  should 
remain  to  this  day  in  the  j)Ossession  of  such  rude,  superstitious,  and 
semi-civilized  j)eople  as  we  have  described  in  these  pages.  It  is  mar- 
velously strange  to  find  the  customs  of  thousands  of  years  ago  still 
existing  and  reproducing  themselves,  as  generation  follows  generation, 
in  these  .sacred  Bible  lands.  To-day  the  traveler  not  only  looks  upon 
the  same  places  mentioned  in  the  Bible,  but  finds  all  about  him,  every 
hour,  habits,  customs,  and  scenes  which  place  him  amid  the  very  echoes 
and  memories  of  the  ancient  and  saintly  days.  It  is  painful  to  look 
upon  the  land  in  its  desolation,  with  its  once  mighty  cities  sleeping 
in  ruins  and  dust,  and  its  hills  and  valleys  barren  and  naked.  But 
it  is  not  entirely  without  compensation,  for  it  has  pleased  God  to  allow 
the  Holy  Land  to  thus  lie,  the  ruin  of  its  former  self  and  glory.  No 
improvements  of  progressive  civilization  have  touched  the  hills  and 
valleys  and  cities  of  these  countries  for  two  thousand  years.  To-day 
we  look  upon  the  lands  of  the  Bible  as  the  companion-book  to  the 
inspired  record.  The  oldest  and  only  history  coming  from  the  ages  so 


PREFACE. 


vii 


remote  has  its  witnesses  in  rocks  and  rivers,  in  hills  and  plains,  as  well 
as  in  the  excavated  ruins  of  cities  of  Bible  renown.  Blind  superstition 
and  fanaticism  have  been  the  guardian  of  the  most  interesting  treas- 
ures of  antiquity  known  to  the  Christian  world. 

Great  progress  has  been  made  in  archaeology  in  the  last  fifty  years. 
The  first  scientific  explorer  to  enter  Palestine  was  Dr.  Edward  Robin- 
son, who  entered  the  Holy  Land  in  1838,  and  gave  the  world  vast 
results  from  his  toil.  Ten  years  later  Lieutenant  Lynch,  of  America, 
did  much  to  throw  light  upon  the  character  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  the 
Jordan,  and  the  Dead  Sea.  He,  with  a dozen  associates  from  America, 
launched  two  boats  on  the  Sea  of  Galilee  in  April,  1848,  and  within 
eight  days  passed  down  the  Jordan  into  the  Dead  Sea.  His  measure- 
ments and  levels  have  been  depended  upon  almost  to  the  present  time 
as  the  most  valuable  and  reliable.  Dr.  J.  T.  Barclay,  a missionary  at 
Jerusalem,  published  a work  of  great  value  in  1857,  and  a year  later 
Dr.  William  Thompson,  a missionary  at  Sidon  and  Beyroot,  published 
“Ihe  Land  and  the  Book.”  These  were  valuable  publications.  Dr. 
Thompson’s  improved  work,  “Southern  Palestine,”  appeared  from  the 
press  in  1880,  and  “ Central  Palestine”  in  1882.  About  1865  the  Eng- 
lish Exploration  Society  was  organized,  and  began  surveys  of  the  Holy 
Land  west  of  the  Jordan,  which  it  completed  several  years  ago.  Much 
valuable  information  respecting  the  topography  of  the  Holy  Land  and 
manners  and  customs  of  the  people  was  thus  secured.  We  have  had 
occasion  to  quote  frequently  from  Lieutenant  Cornier,  who,  with  other 
able  men,  wiis  employed  by  this  society.  About  fourteen  years  ago  an 
American  Palestine  exploration  society  was  organized  with  a view  to 
explore  minutely  the  country  east  of  the  Jordan  ; but  no  great  results 
have  yet  been  .secured,  on  account  of  a lack  of  funds  to  prosecute  the 
work.  Within  the  last  two  years  a popular  and  elaborate  work  called 
“Picturesque  Palestine,”  edited  by  Colonel  Wilson,  has  been  issued, 
which  is  the  most  fully  illustrated  work  on  Palestine  published  in  Amer- 
ica. Beside  these  valuable  works,  many  other  books  on  Palestine  and 
Egypt  have  been  published  that  have  great  merit.  Rev.  J.  W.  McGar- 
vey,  of  Lexington,  Kentucky,  published,  a few  years  ago,  one  of  the 
best  of  these  books,  called  “ Lands  of  the  Bible.”  To  all  of  these 
books  mentioned,  and  many  others,  the  author  acknowledges  his  great 
indebtedness;  and  also  to  Baedeker’s  “ Palestine  and  Syria,”  published 
in  English,  in  London,  as  a hand-book  for  travelers.  A number  of 
other  books  were  helpful  in  the  preparation  of  the  chapters  on  the 
land  of  the  Nile. 

In  giving  measurements,  distances,  and  population  of  towns  in  Syria 


PREFACE. 


viii 

and  Palestine,  the  author  has  usually  followed  Baedeker,  but  sometimea 
Lynch,  and  sometimes  Conder,  as  one  or  another  seemed  most  reliable. 
Tlie  tine  colored  maps  used  are  the  best  to  be  found  in  this  country,  and 
are  as  accurate  as  can  now  be  secured.  Their  value  will  readily  ap- 
pear to  the  reader.  The  illustrations  have  been  selected  with  great 
care,  and  secured  at  material  cost.  Tliey  are  reliable  as  faithful  rej)- 
resentations,  secured  originally  from  photographs. 

The  author  has  constantly  sought  to  check  any  exuberance  of  spirit 
which  leads  sometimes  to  too  fanciful  descriptions.  While  he  has 
sometimes  allowed  the  reader  to  interpret  the  land  by  looking  through 
his  intense  emotions,  he  has  from  first  to  last  steadily  aimed  to  put 
notliing  in  these  pages  which  is  not  faithful  and  true. 

The  preparation  of  these  pages  has  been  a pleasant  task.  Should  they 
prove  a source  of  real  pleasure  and  profit  to  the  reader,  and  serve  to 
introduce  him  to  a better  acquaintance  with  tho.se  parts  of  our  globe 
to  which  all  Christian  hearts  turn  with  ever-increasing  delight,  and 
should  they  cheer,  with  a few  beams  of  pure  sunshine,  fellow-pilgrims 
in  their  journeyings  to  the  good  land  in  the  skies,  the  labor  of  the 
author  will  have  been  abundantly  rewarded. 

J.  W.  Hott. 

Dayton,  Ohio,  June  1,  1884. 


CONTENTS. 


PART  FIRST. 


THE  EMERALD  ISLE. 


CHAPTEU  I. 

Preparation  for  the  Journey -Good-by  — On  the  Steamer— Leaving 
the  Harbor — Leaving  the  Pilot— Sea-Sickness — Fog  — The  Ocean 
— Vessels  at  a Distance — Burial  at  Sea — Inhabitants  of  the  Deep 
— The  Vessel  — Bill  of  Fare 21 

CHAPTER  II. 

Sighting  Land  — Coast  of  Ireland  — Passing  the  Custom-House  — 
Emerald  Isle  — St.  Patrick  — Names  of  Company  — Irish  Jaunt- 
ing-Car — Blarney  Castle — Kissing  the  Blarney-Stone — tlty  of 
Cork  — Bells  of  Shandoii 31 

CHAPTER  III. 

Reign  of  Terror — Beggars  — Glengariff— Little  Tilings  — Frances 
Clare — Lakes  of  Killarney—  Gap  of  Dunloe  — Innisfallen  — Old 
Abbeys  — Irisli  Wit— Kildare  Fame  — The  Uuextinguishable 
Fire 38 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Dublin — Parliament  House — Dublin  University— Statue  of  Gold- 
smith — Thomas  Moore — Burke  — William — Nelson  — Castle  — 

St.  Patrick’s  Cathedral — Swift — Whately  — Pnenix  Park — Tomb 
of  O’Connell  — Harvests — Lough  Erne — Round  Towers — Ro- 
mances  45 


CHAPTER  V. 

Londonderry  — Its  Siege — James  II. — William  of  Orange — Rev. 
George  Walker,  Commander — His  Monument  — Battle  of  the 
Bourne  — Portrush — Dr.  Clarke’s  Birthplace — A Tribute— Giant’s 
Causeway  — Belfast  — The  Irish  Problem — Condition  of  the  Peo- 
ple — Ignorance  — Priestcraft  — Landlordism  — No  Encourage- 
ment to  Labor  — Peat  — Minerals  — Parnell  and  the  Agitation.... 


50 


2 


coy  TESTS. 


PART  SECOND. 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Scotland — Size  — Climate  — North  Channel  — Greenock  — Grave  of 
“ Highland  Mary” — Glasgow — Populatio!i— Statues — Residences 
—First  Steamer,  the  “Comet” — The  Clyde  — Cathedral  — Visit 
to  Aj’r — Burns’  Character,  'Writings,  Home,  and  Relatives 59 

CH.\PTER  II. 

Highlands  of  Scotland  — Lake  Katrine  — Sterling  — The  Castle  — 
Bannockburn  Battle-field — Robert  the  Bruce — Knox’s  Old  Pul- 
pit— Murder  of  Earl  of  Douglas  — Virgin  Martyrs  — The  Cathe- 
dral— Guild  Hall  — Burj-iug  the  Dead  — Scottish  Character  — 

Wit 66 

CHAPTER  III. 

Edinburgh  — Monuments  — Edinburgh  Castle  — Room  of  ^lary  — 
Holyrood  Palace — Murder  of  Rizzio  — Home  of  Knox  — Grave 
of  Knox — His  Cliaracter — Martyrs  — Abbotsford — Labors  of 
Scott — Vale  of  the  Tweed  — Scott’s  Grave  at  Dryburg  Abbey — 
Melrose  Abbey  — Farewell  to  Scotland 74 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Entering  London — Population  of  London  — Cost  of  its  Support  — 
Streets — Billingsgate — Cliaritj' — Parliament  Building  — Queen’s 
Robing-Room  — I’rinee’s  Chamber  — Portraits — Henry  and  his 
Wives  — House  of  Lords  — House  of  Commons  — Wesiminster 
Hall — Cromwell,  Lord  Protector  — St.  Margaret’s  Chapel  — Sir 
Walter  Raleigh  — Canon  Farrar 85 

CHAPTER  V. 

Westminster  Abbey — Its  Location — History  — First  Impressions 
— Monumental  Statues;  Pitt,  Wilberforce,  Weslej',  Livingston, 
and  others — Poets’  Corner  — Tombs  of  Chancer,  Shakespeare, 
Campbell,  Milton,  and  others — Through  the  Tombs  of  the  Kings 
and  Queens  — Stanley  — Coronation  Chair  — Stone  of  Scone 
Superstitious  Legend — Religious  Services — Jerusalem  Chamber..  93 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Travel  in  London — Hansoms — Railways — Tramways  — The  Thames 
—Lambeth  Palace— Prison  of  Wycliffe— Blackfriars  Bridge  and 
Monastery  — Divorce  of  Henry  VIII.  from  Catherine  of  Aragon 


CONTEMS, 


3 


b3'  Wolsey  and  Cainpeggio  — London  Tower  — Crown-Jewels — 
Tower  Green  — Saddest  Spot  on  the  Globe  — Beheading  of  Lady 


Jane  Grey  and  Anne  Bolej’n — St.  Paul’s  Cathedral  — An  Inci- 
dent — Whispering  Gallerj- — Hyde  Park — Museums — Spurgeon 
— Rowland  Hill’s  Chapel  — Newman  Hall 104 

CHAPTER  VII. 


Ecumenical  Conference — Churches  Represented  — United  Brethren 
in  the  Conference  — Opening  Service — Entertainments — Lord 
Maj’or  of  Loudon  — Order  of  Exercises — Results  of  the  Con- 
ference  114 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

London  from  tli.e  Parliament  Tower — Smithfleld — City  Road  Chapel 
— Grave  of  Weslej’ — Benson — Watson — Clarke — Newton  — Bun- 
hill-Fields — Susannah  Weslej- — Tomb  of  Burder — Owen^ — Watts 
— Be  Foe — Bunj’an  — A Reverie 125 


PART  THIRD. 


FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  English  Channel — Paris  — Statuaiw — -Men  and  Women — Church 
of  the  Madeleine — .\griculture  — The  Alps — Mont  Cenis  Tunnel 
— Italian  Skies  and  Landscapes — Mountains  Terraced — ^St. 
Michele  dela  Chiusa  — Turin  — Two  Incidents  — The  Waldenses 
— Pisa — The  Cathedral — Campo  Santo — Leaning  Tower — Journey 
to  Florence 134 

CHAPTER  II. 

Florence  — View  of  the  Citj'  — Home  of  Vespucci — Haute  — Savon- 
arola— Uffizi  Gallery  — Portrait  of  Raphael  — Baptistery  — Inci- 
dents— Piazza  — St.  Croce  — Tomb  of  Angelo  — Galileo  — He 
Medici  — Field  of  Art  — Cathedral 146 

CHAPTER  III. 

Milan — Cathedral  of  Milan — View  from  the  Tower — Venice — People 
— Incident  of  Fashion — Gondolas — Skill  in  Rowing  — History — 
Church  of  St.  Mark — Ashes  of  St.  Mark — Horses  of  Venice — 

The  Piazza  of  St.  Mark — Pigeons— Palace  of  the  Doges — Bridge 
of  Sighs  — Churches — Venetian  Art  — Paintings — Titian’s  Last 
Work  — Works  of  the  Masters  — The  Campanile  — Sunset  from 
the  Campanile  — A Beautiful  Lesson  of  Glory  and  Hope 153 


4 


CO^TLyTS. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

From  Florence  to  Rome — Rural  Scenery" — Valley  of  the  Tiber  — 

Seven  Hills  of  Rome  — History  of  Rome  — Population — People 
— Sabbath  in  Rome — Ruins  of  Rome — Baths  of  Titus  — Palace 
of  Nero — Trial  of  Paul  — Roman  Forum — An  Incident — Mam- 
ertine  Prison  — Arch  of  Titus — Arch  of  Constantine  — Forum 
of  Trajan  — Tomb  of  Trajan  — Palace  of  Caligula — Baths  of 
Diocletian  and  Caracalla  — Royal  Palace — Colosseum 165 

CHAPTER  V. 

Walls  of  Rome  — Priests  — Monks  — Orders  — St.  Pietro  in  Vincoli 
— Statue  of  Moses,  by  Michael  Angelo — An  Incident— Pantb.eon 
— Tomb  of  Raphael — Roman  Art  — Sistine  Chapel  — Frescoes 
of  Michael  Angelo — -Vatican  — Transfiguration  — Church  of  St. 

Peter  — Pilate’s  Stairs  — Chapel  of  St.  Paul  — Tomb  of  Paul  — 
Catacombs — Persecuted  Christians — Pagan  Toml) — Bessons  from 
the  Catacombs 175 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Paul  in  Rome  — A Roman  Citizen  — Epistle  to  the  Romans — At 
Puteoli — I’aul’s  Hired  House  — Dwellings  of  Jews — The  Appian 
Wa3"  — Footprints  of  Christ — Paul’s  First  View  of  Rome — His 
Epistles  — Success  of  His  Ministry  — Two  Inciflents  — Paul’s 
Associates  at  Rome — Reference  to  His  Imprisonment  — Lessons 
from  our  Sorrows 183 

CH.APTER  VII. 

Naples — Scenes  in  Naples  — Men^ — Women  — Donkej’s  — Going  to 
Market  — Making  Macaroni  — Pompeii  — Historj' — Destruction 
— Long  Sleep  — Excursion  — Streets — Character  of  the  People 
Lessons — Vesuvius — Various  Eruptions  — Railwaj' — Ascend- 
ing Vesuvius — Terror  of  the  Mountain 194 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Leaving  Italy — Differences  of  Customs  — Southern  ItaH’  — Its  Ap- 
pearance—Products  — Canosa —The  Battle-field  of  Hannibal  — 
Storm  on  the  Adriatic — Bible  Descriptions — Corfu — Greek 
Clergy  — The  People  — Our  Palestine  Company — Scene  on  Ship- 
board— Mohammedans  at  Prayer — Barren  Hills  of  Greece  — 

Dr.  Schliemann  — His  Life  — Mrs.  Schliemann — Piraeus  City 
of  Plato 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Athens — Early  History — Location  — Surrounding  Mountains — Hy- 
mettus  — Pentelicus — Aigaleos  — Lj'cabettus  — Pass  of  Daphne 
— Sacred  Way  — Temple  of  Ceres- Eleusis  — Worship  of  Ceres 


CONTEXTS. 


o 


— Modern  Atliens — Athenians — Greek  Churches — Ancient  Ath- 
ens— The  Acropolis  — The  Parthenon  — Erectheuni  — Statue  of 
Minerva  — Propv'ltea — Temple  of  Wingless  Victor\'  — Temple 
of  Jupiter — Temple  of  Theseus — Pnix  — Story  of  Demosthenes 

— Odeum  of  Ilerodes — Theater  of  Bacchus — Stadium  — Agora 

— Mars’  Hill  — Temple  of  Mars — Paul  with  the  Xew  Pliilosophy 


— On  Mars’  Hill — ^Surrouudings  — The  Discourse — I^caving 
Athens 211 


CHAPTER  X. 

Leaving  Greece  — The  Hellespont  — Quarantine  — Sea  of  Marmora 
— Mixed  Multitude  — Dr.  .S.  F.  Smith  — An  Incident  — Constan- 
tinople— Ijocation  — Histor3’ — Sultan’s  Harem  — Stamboul  — 
Buriiil  Scenes — Ancient  Wall  — Mohammedan  Superstition  — 

Dogs 227 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Constantinople  — Head-Dress — Carriers — Streets — Houses — Mosques 
— St.  Sophia — Calling  the  Faithful  to  Prayer  — Hours  of  Praj^er 
— Incident — Mohammedan  Worship  — Women  Outside — Ba- 
zaars— Interpreters  — Trip  to  the  Black  Sea — The  Bosporus  — 
Bible-House — Robert  College  — Girls’  Home-School  — Plea  for 
Womanhood 235 

CHAPTER  XII, 

"Voyaging  in  the  levant  — Oriental  Travelers  — Mohammedans  at 
Prayer — From  Constantinople  to  Smv’rua — Plains  of  Troy  — 
Paul’s  Vision  at  Troas — Mitjdene — Sm3’rna  — Population  — Mes- 
sage from  the  Lord  — Pol3’carp 247 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Ephesus — Distaifce  from  Smyrna — Passing  Scenes — Flocks  — Car- 
avans of  Camels — Tents  of  Kedar — Site  of  Ephesus — A City 
of  Ruins— Histoiy  of  Ephesus — Temple  of  Diana — Eigl)t  Tem- 
ples in  Ruins  — Paul  at  Ephesus — A polios — Aquila  and  Priscilla 
— Beasts  at  Ephesus — In  the  Theater  — Address  to  the  Elders  of 
the  Ephesian  Church — Ejnstle  to  the  Ephesians — Home  of  John 
— Timoth3'^  — Ruins 253 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Distances  in  the  Great  Sea  — Chios  — Samos — Patmos — A’ision  of  the 
Revelator  — The  Echo  of  Patmos  — Coos  — Rhodes — Cyprus  — 
Limersol  — Larnica  — Salamis  — Paul  and  Barnabas  on  Cyprus 
— Witnesses 263 


6 


COMMENTS. 


PART  FOURTH. 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Location  of  Palestine  — How  to  Reach  It — First  View  of  the  Holy 
Land  — Long-Cherished  Hopes  Realized  — Types  in  Mountains 


and  Stone  — History  of  the  Land  — Abraham’s  Paj'  — Original 
Occuijants  — Their  Location  — Patriarchs  — Possessions  of  Israel 
— Period  of  the  Judges  — Kings — Greeks  and  Romans  — Times 
of  Christ  — Persian  Conquests  — Crusaders  — Napoleon  — Arabs 
—Present  Government  of  Palestine 269 

CHAPTER  II. 


Time  to  Visit  Palestine — Order  of  Travel  in  the  Spring  and  Autumn 
— Sojourn  in  Tents  — Number  of  American  Visitors  to  Palestine 
— Syria — Bej'root — Hotel  de  Orient  — History  of  Beyroot — Mis- 
sion-Work — Harbor  — University  — Printing  - House  — Cacti  — 
Fountains  — Scene  at  the  Well  — Eleazar — Maidens  Drawing 
Water — Beggars  — Poor — No  Hospitals  for  the  Destitute  — 
Christ’s  Contact  with  the  Suffering — Bartimeus — .Shops — Prepa- 
ration for  the  Journey  — >fethods  of  Travel — Damascus  Road 
— Why  no  Roads  Now  — Ancient  Chariots  — Wagons  of  Joseph 
— Roman  Roads — One  Path  Prepared  for  Pilgrims  — Drawing 
for  Horses  — Grave  of  Kingsley’ 277 

CHAPTER  III. 

Leaving  Beyroot  — Loading  the  Beasts  — Our  Company  — Modes  of 
Accommodation  — Dragoman — Crossing  the  Valley — Pines  — 
Palms  — Sy’camore  - Tree  — Vineyards  — Lebanon  Mountain  — 
Ascending  the  Lebanon  — Desolateness  — Traveling  Family  — 
Outlook  from  Lebanon — Lofty  Peaks  — View  of  Hermon  — 
Ancient  Glory  of  Lebanon  — Cedars  — Toward  our  Tents 285 

CHAPTER  IV. 

First  Night  in  Camp — Shtora  — Heat  and  Cold — Caravans — Riding 
— Diligence  — Valley  of  Coele  Syria  — Litany  — Fields — View  of 
Lebanon  — Thrashing-Floor — Druses  — Viney’ards  — Streams  of 
Water  — Landmarks — Baalbec — Ruins — History — Baal  Worship 
— Walls  — Plateau  — Great  Stones  — How  Handled  — Stone  in 
Quarry — Entrance  to  Acropolis — An  Incident — Tunnels — Tem- 
ple of  Jupiter — Temple  of  the  Sun^ — -Sabbath  Services  in  Temple 
of  the  Sun 


293 


COXTENTS. 


7 


CHAPTER  V. 

Leaving  Baalbec — Last  View — Valley  of  the  Oiontes — Crossing  Anti- 
Lebanon — Tomb  of  Noaii — Abaiia — Xaamati — View  of  Damascus 
— Surrounding  Plain  — Hotel  — Eastern  House  — Population  of 
Damascus — Houses  of  Damascus — Bricks — W alls — Court  of  Ori- 
ental House  — Divan  — Bazaars  — Costumes 308 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Damascus — Trading  — Camels  — Ornaments — Mosques  — Call  of  the 
Muezzin— Great  Mosque  — Basilica— Roman  Temple  — Tomb  of 
the  Head  of  John  the  Baptist — House  of  Rimmon— Altar  of 
Ahaz — Trouble  in  the  Mosque  — The  Massacre  — Damascus  of 
Antiquity — Visits  of  Abraham  and  Elisha— Conversion  of  Saul — 

Street  Called  Straight  — House  of  Ananias — Old  Wall  — Eastern 
Gate 319 

CHAPTER  VII. 

Leaving  Damascus — Whited  .Sepulchers — Place  of  Saul’s  Conversion 
— Tomb  of  Nimrod  — Over  the  Hermon — Plowing  — Height  of 
Hermon — Character  of  Hermon — Bible  Allusions  — Rain-Storm 
— View  from  Hermon — Csesarea  Philippi — History — Herod  Philip 
— Salome  — Banias  of  To-Da5' — Walls  — Moats — Gate — Coins  — 
Temple  of  Pan — Fortress  — Christ  at  Caesarea — His  Discourse — 

The  Transfiguration — Raphael’s  Transfiguration — The  Lunatic 
Child — Woman  Healed — Statue — Eusebius’  Record — A Figure...  328 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Clouds  Lifting — Leaving  Banias — Dan — Golden  Calf — Mound  of  the 
City — Samson’s  Foxes — Hasliany  — Derdarah  — Mountains  of 
Naphtali  — Kedesh  — City  of  Refuge — Home  of  Deborah — Shep- 
herd.s — Goats — Sheep — Bible  Illustrations — Christ  the  Good  Shep- 
herd— Sheep-fold  — Dividing  the  Sheep  from  the  Goals — Skin 
Bottles — Incidents  — Women  Carrying  Water — Hagar  — Fat  of 
Sheep  — Bedouin  Cloaks — Camp  at  Merom  — Battle-Scene  of 
Joshua 339 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Leaving  Merom— Gazelle — Stork — From  Lake  Huleh  to  Sea  of  Gal- 
ilee— Khan  Yusef — View  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee — The  Scene  of 
Jesus’  Labors — Chorazin — Capernaum — Ruins  of  a Synagogue — 
Christ’s  Woe  on  the  Cities — His  Boundless  Invitation 351 

CHAPTER  X. 

Leaving  Capernaum — Safed — City  on  a Hill — Springs — Papyrus- 
Bethsaida — Bethsaida  Julius — Plains  of  Gennesaret — Lessons  of 
the  Land  of  Gennesaret — Oleander  Groves — Magdala— Tomb  of 


8 


CONTENTS. 


Mary  Magdalene — Ride  along  the  Lake — Tiberias — Bed-sick — 
Home  of  Herod — Iniquiij'  of  the  Palace — City  of  Jewish  Honor 
— Mishna — Ancient  City — View  of  llie  Sea — Size  of  the  Sea  of 
Galilee — Storms — Mountains  Around  the  Lake — Sleep  Place — 

Bath  in  the  Sea  — fishes — Leaving  Tiberias  — Last  View  of  the 
Sea  of  Galilee 360 

CHAPTER  XL 

Mountain  of  Beatitudes — Women  Riding — Cana  of  Galilee — Christ’s 
First  Miracle  — Xoblfman’s  Son  Healed  — Water-pots — Well  — 
M'omen  Washing — Jonah’s  'I'own — Tomb  of  Jonaii — First  View 
of  Nazareth — Child  Home  of  Jesus — Population  of  Nazareth — 

Dress  of  Women — View  from  the  Hill — Gn)lto  of  Annunciation 
— Synagogue— Jesus  Rejected — Bro-v  of  the  Hill — -At  the  Well — 

Bake  oven 371 

CHAPTER  XII. 

Storm  at  Nazareth — Singing  of  Birds — Leaving  Nazareth — Hills  of 
Galilee — Path  of  the  Holy  Family — Plain  of  Esdraelon — Little 
Hermon — Carmel — Hattie  of  the  Gods — Elijah — Ahab — Jezebel — 

The  Famine — The  Prayer  for  Rain — God  or  Baal  — Hermits  of 
Carmel — Nain — Talxrr — .Shnnem — Elisha’s  Chamber — Raising  the 
Widow’s  Son 384 

CHAPTER  Xril. 

Fountain  of  Gideon — Jezreel — Gilboa — Battle  of  Deborah — Gideon — 

Scene  at  Endor  — Saul  Slain  in  Gilboa — Jezebel  — Vineyard  of 
Naboth  — Josiah  Slain  by  Nechro  — Napoleon’s  Battle  — Jehu — 

Dogs  Eat  Jezebel — Women  Grinding  at  the  Mill  — Rock-Cut 
Cisterns — Across  Esdraelon 394 

CHAPTER  XrV. 

Jenin — Cactus — Date-Palm — Women  at  the  Tombs — Dothan — Joseph 
Sold — Elisha  at  Dothan — Watering  Camels — Samaria — Home  of 
the  Prophets — Colonnade  of  Herod — Church  of  St.  John — Siege 
of  Benhadad  — Philip  at  Samaria  — Peter  at  Samaria  — Sight  of 
Ebal  and  Gerizim  — Gathering  Sticks — Arabs  at  Meal 403 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Shechem — A’'alley  of  Shechem  — Camp  of  Abraham — Joshua  and 
Israel  — Amphitheater — Mount  Gerizim  — Samaritan  Temple — 
Climbing  the  Mountain — Samaritan  Worship — Passover — Sacred 
Rock  — Samaritan  Population  — Samaritan  Pentateuch  — Mount 
Ebal 413 


COXTEXTS. 


9 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Leaving  Shechem  — Lepers  — Houses — Elat  Roofs  — House  - tops  — 

Plain  of  Moreh  — Tomb  of  Joseph  — Jacob’s  Well- — Askar  — 
Leaving  Jacob’s  Well  — Balata — Northern  Hills  of  Judea 425 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Khan  Sawich  — IiCbonah  — Shiloh  — Tabernacle  — Altar  of  Incense 
— Ark  of  the  Covenant — High-Priest — Home  of  Samuel  — Eli 
— Robbers’  Fountain  — View  from  Bethel  — Mizpeh  — Bethel  — 

View  of  Jerusalem  — Events  at  Bethel  — Over  the  Quarantine 
jMountains  — Camp  at  Jericho 434 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Valley  of  the  Jordan  — River  Jordan  — Plain  — Cities  of  the  Plain  — 
Jericho  — Elisha’s  Fountain  — Quarantine  Mountain  — Gilgal  — 
Sodom  and  Gomorrah  — Dead  Sea  — Bethabara  — Pilgrims  to  the 
Jordan 447 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Leaving  Jericho  — Thieves  — Brook  Cheriih  — Elijah  Fed  by  the  Ra- 
vens— Ravens — Wilderness  of  Judea  — 'I’he  Good  Samaritan  — 
Gazelles — Apostles’  Fountain  — Stone  of  Rest  — Bethany — Tomb 
of  Lazarus- — Christ  at  Bethany — View  of  Jerusalem  from  Olivet 
— Entering  the  Holy  City 462 

CHAPTER  XX. 

The  Holy  City — History  of  Jerusalem  — Origin  of  its  Name  — Lo- 
cation — Size — Population  — Moriah  — Zion  — Valley  of  Kedron 
— Vallej'  of  Hinnom  — Plan  of  Jerusalem  — Tyropeon  Valley 
— Stone  Cit5' — View  in  Jerusalem  — House-top — Present  Con- 
dition of  Jerusalem 477 

CHAPTER  XXL 

Walk  about  Jerusalem^— Mount  of  Olives  — Place  of  Christ’s  Ascen- 
sion— Olives  — Oil  Mill — Taxation  of  the  Lands — Via  Dolorosa 
— Brook  Kedron  — Valley  of  Kedron — Grotto  of  Jeremiah  — 

Tomb  of  Mary — Gethsemane — Olive-Tree  in  Gethsemane  — 
Jewish  Tombs  — Tomb  of  Absalom  — Other  Tombs — Hill  of  Of- 
fense— Virgin’s  Fountain  — Pool  of  Siloam — En-rogel 487 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

Valley  of  Hinnom — Molech — Hill  of  Evil  Counsel — -I'ield  of  Blood 
— Lower  Pool  of  Gihon  — Aqueduct  — Upper  Pool  of  Gihon  — 
Rain-Fall  — Coronation  of  Solomon  — Burial-Grounds  — Olive- 


10 


COMEXTS. 


Trees — Tombs  of  tlie  Kings  — Tombs  of  the  Judges  — Sepulcher 
of  Christ  — Sepulcher  Open  and  Closed' — Xob  — Saul’s  Murder 
of  the  Priests 503 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Walls  of  Jeruselain — ^ Towers— Eastern  Wall  — Great  Stones  — 
Foundations  — Golden  Gate  — ■ Council  - Chambers  — Supersti- 
tions— Place  of  Judgment  — St.  Stephen’s  Gate — Herod’s  Gate 
— Damascus  Gate- — Eength  of  Entire  Wall  — Joppa  Gate  — 
Tower  of  David — Mount  Zion  — Zion  Gate — Tyropeon  Valley 
— Dung-Gate  — Stone-Quarries  under  the  City — Golgotha 511 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Streets  of  Jerusalem — Harain  cs  Sheriff — Dome  of  the  Rock  — Sa- 
cred Place — Praying-Pla(;e  of  David  — Superstitions  — Dome  of 
the  Chain — Praying  Before  the  Moscpie  — Cisterns — Mo.squeel 
Aksa  — ('radio  of  Christ  — Solomon’s  Stables  — Wailing  - Place 
of  the  Jews  — Robinson’s  Arch 520 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

ATa  Dolorosa — Pool  of  Bethesda  — Tower  of  Antonia  — Pilate’s 
House — Arch  of  Pilate^  — C'hurch  of  the  Holy  Sepulcher  — Stone 
of  Anointment — Holy  Sepulcher — Rent  Rock  — Chapel  of  St. 
Helena — Finding  of  the  Cross  — Sacred  Pillar — Tomb  of  Adam 
Pilgrims — Holy  Fire — Pool  of  Hezekiah  — .Armenian  Monas- 
tery— Tomb  of  David  — Lepers  — Synagogue — Bazaars — Hos- 
pital of  St.  John  — Lady  Riding  a Donkey  — Money-Changers 
— Arab  (Juarrel 533 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Land  of  Abraham  — Sight  of  Bethlelieni  Fields  — Tomb  of  Rachel  — 

Giloh  — Pools  of  Solomon  — Tekoa  — Mountain  of  Paradise  — 

Cave  of  Adullam  — Russian  Pilgrims — Abrahiftn’s  Oak  — Plain 
of  Mature — Hebron  — Cave  of  Machpelah  — Pools  of  Hebron — 
Bethlehem  — Church  of  the  Xativit^'- Well  of  David  — Birth 
of  Christ  — IJghts  of  Zion 547 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Climate  of  Palestine  — AVood  — Products  of  Palestine  — Fruits — 
Silks—  Cotton—  Fig-Tree—  Beasts—  Population— Jews  — Turks 
Arabs  — Fellahin  — Bedouins  — Costumes  — AVomen  — Salu- 
tations — Land-Tenure  — Taxation 


5G3 


coiXTEyrs. 


11 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Church  in  Jerusalem  — Leaving  the  PI0I3' City  — Trouble  with  the 
Driver  — Last  View  of  Jerusalem  — House  of  Obed-edom  — • Kir- 
jath- Jearim  — Valley  of  Ajalon  — Latrun  — Ramleh  — Tower 
of  the  Forty  — Plain  of  Sharon — Joppa — Simon’s  House  — 
Orange-Orchards — Mohammedan  Funeral  — Ships  of  the  Desert 
— Thanksgiving  Dinner  — Leaving  Jopj)a 573 


PART  FIFTH. 


EGYPT-LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Land  of  the  Pharaohs  — Port  Said  — Suez  Canal  — Desert  — Land  of 
Goshen  — Joseph  and  Jacob — Home  of  Israel  — Ismailia— Ra- 
ineses— Bondage  of  Israel  — Zakazik  — Palm-Trees  — Women 
— People  of  Egj’pt  — Pj^ramids  — Donkeys  — Cairo 587 

CHAPTER  II. 

Ancient  Egj'pt  — Its  Antiquities — Ancient  Government — Abraham 
in  Egypt  — Egyptian  Glory  and  Plagues  — Plato  in  Egypt — • 

Egypt  the  Shelter  of  Christ — Virgin’s  Tree — Climate  of  Egj^pt 
— Copts — Abyssinians  — Turks  — Women  as  Slaves  — Streets 
of  Cairo  — Egy^ptian  Gardens  — Blind  People  — Mosques  — 
Grand  Mosque— - Citadel  — Mamelukes  — Mohammedan  School 
— Mohammedan  Students — Missions  in  Egypt 594 

CHAPTER  III. 

• 

Festival  of  Hassan  — History  of  the  Celebration  — Scene  in  the 
Streets — Murderous  Procession  — Fanaticism  — Curious  Belief — 

Baal  Worship 603 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Visit  to  the  Pyramids  — Arabs— Burial-Ground  of  Egypt  — Cheops — 

Size  of  the  Pyramid  — Interior  of  Cheops  — Queen’s  Chamber  — 
Sarcophagus  in  King’s  Chamber — Ascending  the  Pyramids  — 

View  from  the  Top  of  Cheops  — Pyramid  of  Cephren — An  Arab 
Race  down  the  Pyramid  — Sphinx 609 


12 


COSTEM'S. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Visit  to  Heliopolis — Watering  the  Lands — Virgin’s  Tree  — City  of 

On  — Obelisk  of  Egypt  — Marriage  of  Joseph — Decay  of  Ages...  621 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Visit  to  Sakkarah  — Donkey  Riding  — Sad  Sight  — Women  Mourn- 
ing— Ancient  Memphis — Statue  of  Rameses — Groves  of  Palms 
— Burial  Places  — Serapeum  — Tombs  of  the  Sacred  Bulls  — 

Tomb  of  Tih  — Crossing  the  Nile — Moses  in  the  Rushes 625 

CHAPTER  VIL 

Museum  of  Cairo  — Old  Statue — Mummies  — Whirling  Dervishes — 
Nilometer  — River  Nile — Overflowing  of  the  Nile — Camp-Fires 
of  Israel 635 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Egyptian  People— Route  to  Alexandria — Fields — Tlie  Delta  — An- 
cient Alexandria  — Schools  of  Alexandria— Alexandrian  Libra- 
ries — Pompey’s  Pillar  — Doom  of  Alexandria — Modern  City — 
Memories » 641 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Leaving  Alexandria  — Across  the  Mediterranean — Triest — Custom- 
House  Robbery  — Homeward  — In  London —Oxford  — Latimer 
and  Ridley — Across  the  Ocean — At  Home  — The  New  World 
— Good-by 647 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS, 


PAGE  I 

Portrait  of  the  Author.  I 

Frontispiece.  \ 


Irisli  Donkey-Cart  . . .40 

Irish  Donkey  . . . 58 

Birthplace  of  Robert  Burns  . 65  1 
Monument  of  Walter  Scott.  83  | 
Parliament  Building  . . 89  ; 

Westminster  Abbey  . . 94  j 

St.  Paul’s  Catheflral  . . 109  ■! 

Bunyan’s  Tomb  . . . 130  | 

Bedford  Jail  ....  132  i 
Place  de  la  Concorde  . . 135 

Church  of  the  Madeleine.  . 137 
View  of  Pisa  . . . 144 

Cathedral  of  Milan  . . . 155 

Bridge  of  Sighs  . . .161 

Arch  of  Titus  ....  171 
Remains  of  the  Colosseum  . 174 

The  Pantheon  ....  176 
St.  Peter’s  Church,  Rome  . 179 

Graves  in  the  Catacombs  at 

Rome  ....  182 
Crater  of  Vesuvius  . . 200 

New  Testament  World  (map), 

opposite  ....  202 
Athens,  with  the  Acropolis  . 214 

The  Parthenon  . . . 216 

.Mars’  Hill  ....  221 

Mosque  of  St.  Sophia  . . 237 


PAGE 

Mohammedans  at  Prayer  (1)  240 

Mohammedans  at  Prayer  (2)  . 241 
Smyrna.  ....  251 

Temple  of  Diana  . . . 256 

Ancient  Theater  at  Ephesus.  260 
Modern  Palestine  (colored  map), 
opposite  ....  269 
Palestine  in  the  time  of  the 

Patriarchs  (map),  opposite  277 
Fountain  by  the  Wayside  . 280 
Carob-Tree  and  Pods  . . 288 

Cedar  of  Lebanon  . . . 291 

Medals  of  Baal  . . . 299 

Stone  in  the  Quarry,  Baalbec  . 301 
Entrance  to  the  Temple  of  the 
Sun,  Baalbec . . . 305 

Our  Camp  at  Baalbec,  opposite  308 
Damascus  from  Jehel  Kasiun  . 311 
Court  of  an  Eastern  House  . 315 

Divan,  or  Reception-Room  . 316 
Street  which  is  Called  Straight  325 
Eastern  Gate  of  Damascus  . 327 

Arabs  Plowing  . . . 330 

Gate  of  CiBsarea  Philippi  . 333 

Jackal  — Samson’s  Fox  . . 341 

Sheep-Fold  ....  346 

Syrian  Sheep  ....  348 
Stork  on  a Ruin  - . 352 


13 


14 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIOXS. 


Sea  of  Galilee, from  the  North 
Ruins  of  a Synagogue,  Caper- 
naum . . . . . 

View  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee, 
from  Tiberias  . . . 

View  of  Nazareth 
Oriental  Dress  . . * . 

Village  Bake-Oven 
Women  Grinding  at  a Mill 
Date-Palm  .... 
Weeping  for  the  Dead 
Herod’s  Colonnade  at  Samaria 
Arabs  at  Meal  . . ’ . 

View  of  Shechem  . 

Worship  of  Samaritans  on  iMt. 

Gerizim  . . . . 

Ancient  Scroll  Closed  . 
Oriental  House-Top . 

The  Tabernacle  at  Shiloh 
Altar  of  Incense 
Ark  of  the  Covenant  . 
High-Priest  Before  the  Lord  . 
The  Dead  Sea 

Crossing  the  Jordan  at  Beth- 
abara  . . . . 

Jerusalem  from  the  North-east 
The  Damascus  Gate 
Pool  of  Siloam,  looking  toward 
Jerusalem  .... 
Plan  of  Jerusalem 
View  in  Jerusalem  . 

Environs  of  Jerusalem  (colored 
map)  opposite  . 

Mount  of  Olives  . 

Oil-Mill 


Old  Olive-Tree  in  Gethsemane  495 
Pool  of  Siloam  and  Garden, 


South-eastward . . . 500 

Upper  Pool  of  Gihon  . . 505 

Sepulcher  Open  and  Closed  . 509 
The  Golden  Gate  . . . 513 

I Dome  of  the  Rock  . . . 522 

Praying  before  the  Mosque  . 526 

Wailing-Place  of  the  Jews  at 
Jerusalem  . . . 529 

A"ia  Dolorosa  ....  535 
Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulcher  538 
Holy  Sepulcher  . . . 539 

Lady  Riding  a Donkey  . . 545 

Tomb  of  Rachel  . . . 548 

Pools  of  Solomon  . . . 549 

Hebron  and  the  Haram  . 554 

Bethlehem  ....  557 
Oriental  Costumes  . . 568 

Sandal 568 

AVomaii  A’^eiled  . . . 569 

Tower  of  the  Forty — Ramleh  . 579 
Joppa  .....  581 

Ships  of  the  Desert  . . . 584 

Egypt  (colored  map)  opposite  587 
Suez  Canal  ....  588 
Nile  and  Pyramids  . . 610 

The  Sphinx  ....  618 
Obelisk  of  Egypt  at  On  . 623 

Egyptian  Donkey  . . . 626 

Statue  of  Raineses  at  Memphis  629 
Scene  on  the  Nile  . . 633 

Egyptian  Alummy  . . . 636 

AVhirling  Dervishes  . . 637 

[ Pompey’s  Pillar  . . . 645 


PAGE 

354 

356 

369 

374 

377 

382 

401 

404 

405 

408 

402 

414 

417 

422 

428 

435 

436 

437 

438 

455 

457 

472 

475 

479 

483 

485 

486 

489 

490 


INTRODUCTION. 


OOKS  of  travel  have  always  been  regarded  with  favor  by  the 
large  class  of  intelligent  people  who  are  not  given  to  schol- 

I ’o~  { 

arly  pursuits.  They  satisfy  the  desire  for  something  which 
t gives  new  life  and  interest  to  the  dry  details  of  history  as  it 
I has  been  commonly  written.  Tlie  traveler  who  relates  with  the 
felicity  of  a ready  writer  what  has  passed  under  his  own  observation, 
and  introduces  the  reader,  as  it  were,  to  the  people  witli  whom  he  has 
come  in  personal  contact,  renders  a grateful  service.  If  on  the  one 
hand  the  common  accusation  that  the  traveler  delights  to  hear  himself 
talk  holds  good,  on  the  other,  if  he  has  profited  by  his  travels,  the 
people  are  more  eager  to  listen  than  he  is  to  communicate  what  he  has 
seen  and  heard.  And  as  the  better  facilities  for  travel  have  greatly 
enlarged  the  number  who  take  advantage  of  them,  so  they  have  in- 
creased the  desire  of  those  who  are  compelled  to  remain  at  home  to 
know  more  of  the  world  beyond  their  line  of  observation.  And  who- 
ever gratifies  their  laudable  search  for  information  stands  to  them  some- 
what in  the  relation  of  a personal  friend,  willing  to  share  with  them 
the  benefits  which  have  fallen  to  his  lot. 

It  has  grown  into  a proverb,  nearly,  that  one  should  become  acquainted 
with  his  own  country  before  going  abroad.  There  is  not  so  much 
wisdom  contained  in  this  suggestion  as  appears  on  the  surface.  Ours 
is  a country  rich  indeed  in  beautiful  and,  in  some  parts,  sublime  natural 
scenery,  which  is  beginning  to  secure  the  attention  of  the  old  world. 
But  it  is  a newly-settled  couiitrv,  with  so  few  historical  monuments  of 

15 


INTRODUCTION. 


16  ' 

any  lind,  so  little  of  the  higher  achievements  of  men,  so  few  great  cities, 
museums  of  art  and  science,  and  we  are  so  far  removed  from  the  scenes 
of  man’s  highest  endeavors,  that  we  can  not  give  precedence  to  these 
less  interesting  objects  at  home.  We  desire  to  touch  the  current  of 
human  affairs  that  has  been  flowing  in  other  lands  and  feel  the  pulse 
that  beats  in  other  races,  and  learn  more  of  the  development  of  society. 
This  is  the  feeling,  not  always  clearly  apprehended,  that  makes  a well- 
written  book  of  travels  among  the  most  entertaining  and  useful  of  the 
varied  publications  of  our  times. 

This  volume  is  the  record  of  a tour  taken  through  the  more  attractive 
parts  of  Europe  and  on  into  the  East  into  the  Bible  lands.  Over  the 
first  part  we  passed  as  an  independent  traveler;  but  these  pages  have 
served  to  renew  and  intensify  the  memories  which  we  cherish  of  many 
delightful  hours  in  western  and  southern  Europe.  And  we  bear  will- 
ing testimony  that  the  author,  in  whose  company  we  journeyed  from 
Corfu  to  Athens  and  Constantinople  and  on  through  Syria  and  Egypt, 
back  again  to  Europe,  has  been  a careful  and  faithful  observer,  catch- 
ing the  spirit  and  impress  of  the  countries  through  which  we  passed. 
For  many  hours,  amounting  to  days  during  the  tour  here  narrated, 
we  rode  side  by  side,  enjoying  the  new  and  strange  scenes  about  us, 
exchanging  views  and  consulting  authorities.  It  would  be  difiicult  to 
magnify  the  enjoyment,  the  revival  of  one’s  previous  knowledge,  the 
quickening  of  all  one’s  faculties  under  these  circumstances.  The  imag- 
inings and  dreams  of  one’s  early  years  become  realities;  a great  part 
of  one’s  faith  passes  into  knowledge,  begetting  larger  faith  in  the  things 
which  still  lie  beyond.  To  transfer  all  this  as  far  as  possible  to  the 
reader  is  the  object  of  this  volume. 

It  will  not  be  thought  strange  that  so  large  a portion  of  the  volume 
ite  devoted  to  Palestine  and  the  adjacent  countries.  The  interest  that 
attaches  to  the  land  that  Jehovah  gave  to  his  chosen  people  suffers  no 
abatement  as  the  years  roll  on.  How  proudly  the  descendants  of  Abra- 
ham looked  upon  their  goodly  heritage,  rich  in  memories  of  their  early 
possession  and  the  growth  of  the  nation,  is  pathetically  described  in 


INTRODUCTION. 


17 


the  books  of  the  prophets.  The  smallness  of  the  territory,  its  marked 
physical  peculiarities,  the  singular  beauty  of  its  mountains,  valleys,  and 
plains,  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  the  mystery  in  which  the  valley  of  the 
Jordan  and  the  Dead  Sea  are  involved,  all  give  it  a hold  on  the  imagina- 
tion and  affections  that  has  no  parallel  among  the  nations.  Where  in 
all  the  world  shall  we  find  a counterpart  for  Zion,  the  City  of  the  great 
King?  Beautiful  for  situation,  crowned  with  a temple  on  which  had 
been  bestowed  the  free-will  offerings  of  the  nation  and  the  highest  skill 
of  the  times  in  which  it  was  built,  where  God  had  manifested  himself 
as  in  no  other  house  of  worship  ever  built  with  human  hands,  it  still 
stands  in  the  hearts  of  men  as  the  type  of  the  heavenly  city — the  New 
Jerusalem. 

The  hopes  and  aspirations  of  which  Zion  is  the  prototype  have  pro- 
duced, in  Christian  minstrelsy,  hymns  that  will  endure  with  the  strains 
of  the  Psalmist.  Indeed,  it  may  be  truthfully  said  that  the  followers 
of  Christ  have  shown  a deeper  attachment  to  the  Holy  Land  than  the 
Jews  themselves;  for  whatever  memories  the  Jews  still  cherish  of  patri- 
archs, prophets,  and  kings,  we  who  believe  in  Christ  as  God  manifest  in 
the  flesh,  and  trust  in  the  salvation  which  he  brought  to  men,  have 
memories  more  tender  and  enduring.  Abraham,  Moses,  David,  were  the 
progenitors  and  builders  of  a nation ; Christ  is  the  redeemer  of  the 
human  race.  By  his  coming  the  glory  of  Shecliem  and  Bethel  and 
Hebron  has  lost  its  splendor  in  the  brighter  light  of  Bethlehem,  Beth- 
any, and  the  mount  of  Olives.  Jerusalem  had  become  only  a name 
in  the  earth  except  for  Calvary.  Even  the  awful  grandeur  of  the 
descending  God  on  Sinai  does  not  so  touch  the  soul  as  the  glory  of  the 
mount  of  the  transfiguration.  The  early  Christian  pilgrims  found  so 
many  precious  memories  of  their  Lord  and  Master  that  many  spent 
their  lives  there,  happy  to  live  and  die  where  he  had  been  in  person. 
Christian  churches  became  more  numerous  than  synagogues  had  been, 
and  have  served  since  to  identify  the  places  that  had  been  hallowed 
by  the  presence  of  Christ.  The  Crusaders  are  a grand  illustration  of 
the  undying  faith  and  affection  of  Christendom  in  regard  to  this  land. 


18 


INTRODUCTION. 


This  century  has  seen  a great  awakening  of  interest  in  the  history 
and  present  condition  of  Palestine.  That  which  for  centuries  was 
possible  only  to  adventurous  and  professional  travelers  has  in  these 
later  years  been  accomplished  by  scholars  and  devotees  in  constantly 
increasing  numbers.  Yet  only  a few  have  been  able  to  gratify  what  has 
become  a common  desire  among  the  more  intelligent.  To  these,  how- 
ever, remains  the  satisfaction  of  learning  from  one  whose  hopes  have 
been  gratified,  or  of  reading,  as  in  this  volume,  the  record  of  his  observa- 
tions and  thoughts.  And  they  may  rely  with  confidence  on  his  report. 
Although  the  judgments  of  the  Lord  have  fallen  on  this  once  fair- 
est and  most  prosperous  land  until  it  has  become  a wreck,  and  des- 
olate compared  with  its  best  days,  yet  no  other  country  with  so  old 
a history  has  changed  so  little  in  outward  appearance.  Xowhere  else 
have  the  sites  of  its  memorable  places  been  so  well  preserved.  Man- 
ners and  customs  have  changed  so  little  that  one  soon  perceives  that 
he  is  certainly  in  the  land  of  the  Bible;  that  it  was  written  by  those 
familiar  with  the  scenes  before  his  eyes.  With  all  its  ruin,  no  other 
land  has  preserved  in  such  integrity  the  characteristics  that  have  been 
woven  into  its  history,  its  literature,  and  its  religion. 

So  well  has  the  author  combined  in  these  pages  the  physical  aspects 
of  the  countries,  and  their  present  condition, — civil,  social,  and  relig- 
ious,— with  the  ancient  and  later  history,  that  they  can  not  be  read 
without  advantage;  and  we  commend  them  to  favorable  consideration, 
assured  that  they  will  justify  reasonable  expectation  of  enjoyment  and 
profit. 

Beis'j.  St.  James  Fry. 

St.  Louis,  SEssoutn. 


JOURNElYINdi$  IN  THE]  Ol^D  Wo%D, 


JouiiNilYiNQ^  IN  The;  Ohd  Worth 


PART  FIRST. 


THE  EMERALD  ISLE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Preparation  for  the  Journey — Good-by  — On  the  Steamer — Leaving  the 
Harbor  — Leaving  the  Pilot — Sea-Sickness — Fog — The  Ocean  — Ves- 
sels at  a Distance- — Burial  at  Sea  — Inhabitants  of  the  Deep — The 
Vessel — Bill  of  Fare. 


fANY  years  ago,  -when  childhood  fancies  floated  in 
boyish  dreams,  an  atlas  of  the  world  became  my 
]K)ssession,  by  the  thoughtful  gift  of  a grandfather, 
now  long  since  among  the  angels.  From  that  atlas, 
by  nightly  study,  1 learned  to  know  the  countries  and  con- 
tinents of  the  great  globe  and  the  islands  of  tlie  distant 
seas.  Beside  that  treasure  a loving  mother,  who  made  our 
home  a path  of  light,  placed  a Bible.  These  Avere  the  Avriter’s 
first  possessions.  From  that  Bible,  ere  yet  my  youthful  feet 
had  confidence  to  tread  beyond  the  shadoAV  of  my  OAvn  dear 
father’s  roof,  I read  of  the  Holy  Tiand,  where  God’s  ancient 
people  dAvelt  in  tents,  and  where  once  .Jesus  liA^ed  and  walked 
among  the  sons  of  men.  Then  my  eyes  filled  Avith  anxious 
tears  to  look  on  those  distant  scenes,  and  my  heart  throbbed 
to  have  the  feet  .«ome  distant  day  press  the  same  paths  where 
the  dear  Master  trod.  SIoav  years  have  Avrought  their  shad- 
owy changes.  Many  childish  dreams  remain  unrealized,  and 

21 


22 


THE  EMERALD  ISLE. 


alv,a}’S  must.  It  was  a joyously  bright  June  morning  which 
woke  the  dreamer  to  the  consciousness  that  some  of  the  long 
pent-up  lieart-throbbings  were  to  be  stilled,  and  I must  hasten 
to  be  ready  for  the  journey. 

Did  you  ever  prepare  for  a long  journey?  If  so,  you  found 
it  to  be  no  easy  task.  What  to  take  along  and  how  to  get 
away  from  that  Avhich  can  not  be  taken  along  is  a difficult 
jjroblem.  The  ])re])aration  is  different  according  as  we  do 
or  do  not  expect  to  return.  If  we  expect  to  come  again  every- 
thing must  be  so  arranged  as  to  go  on  somewhat  according 
to  our  wishes,  and  so  that  we  will  know  where  to  find  it. 
If  the  departure  is  forever,  then  let  the  cords  break,  let  the 
bonds  be  sundered.  Other  hands  will  put  the  tangled  and 
bleeding  ends  together.  But  who  knows  the  return  of  the 
footsteps?  Who  does  not  know  that  there  is  the  last  journe}', 
and  there  is  that  good-by  which  lingers  on  and  on,  dying  out 
at  last  in  a long,  unbroken  silence? 

On  Wednesday,  July  29th,  I had  completed  my  good-bys  to 
many  friends  and  fellow-laborers  at  1113'  home  cit}’  and  was  at 
the  beginning  of  a long  journe}'.  I found  that  men  who  had 
usuallv  been  too  bus\’  to  notice  a passer-b}'  had  for  da3’S  stop- 
ped me  on  the  streets  to  wish  me  good  fortune  abroad.  So 
I had  tickets,  passports,  letters  of  credit  in  foreign  lands,  and 
a small  su})i)h’  of  medicines  and  a few  books  in  the  valise, 
and  was  readv  for  sea-sickness. 

It  will  hardh’  be  of  interest  to  the  reader  to  note  here  that 
in  the  picturesque  vallc}’  of  Virginia  I said  good-b}'  to  that 
dear  little  woman  who  for  almost  a score  of  3'ears  has  been 
the  strength  and  inspiration  of  mv  life.  After  a season  of 
praver  alone  with  three  little  girls  I had  got  awa}-  from 
their  embrace.  How  delicate  these  jewels  of  ours.  IIow 
tender  the  moment  when  the}'  slipped  out  of  sight  and  sat 
still  ciwing.  Children  are  just  the  creatures  to  love,  just  the 
little  tendrils  from  which  we  would  not  be  severed.  That 
anxious,  loving,  sorrowing  face  from  which  I turned  awa}^  at 
the  depot  in  Winchester,  Virginia,  I shall  never  forget.  The 
reader  need  not  be  told  that  it  was  hers  who  has  made  our 
humble  home  the  path  to  paradise. 


LEAVlXa  OF  THE  PILOT. 


23 


After  two  days  in  New  York,  at  noon,  August  6th,  Dr. 
Thoni2>son  and  myself  climl^ed  into  a cab,  and  the  driver  hur- 
ried us  along  through  the  busy,  crowded  streets  of  the  great 
city  to  the  pier  where  the  vessel  lay  receiving  its  vast  com- 
pany of  voyagers.  No  artist  can  jjicture  and  no  })en  describe 
the  scenes  which  almost  daily  occur  at  this  great  harbor. 
Vast  crowds  sauntered  about,  without  a])parently  any  object. 
Others  wore  a look  of  deep  anxiety.  Women  were  clinging 
to  husbands  who  were  going  from  them  for  many  months. 
Children  held  on  to  parents  whom  they  would  not  soon  see 
again.  The  bell  rings  and  a sharp  voice  calls,  “ All  ashore,” 
and  the  parting  is  at  hand.  Those  who  have  come  aboard  to 
.see  fricmls  and  loved  ones  ofi'  must  saj’  good-by.  Hundreds 
kiss  good-by  with  tears,  and  embraces  loving  and  tender. 
What  a throb  of  excitement!  The  good-by  was  repeated  over 
and  over,  as  a moment  of  time  remained.  One  efibrt  after 
another  is  made  by  friends  to  get  away,  and  still  they  cling 
fast  to  each  other.  The  2>artings  were  made  at  last.  The 
bridge  was  taken  in,  the  “greyhound  of  the  sea”  turned  from 
the  pier,  and  the  last  wavings  of  cheer  from  the  shore  were 
out  of  sight,  and  we  had  all  said,  “Farewell  to  America;  wel- 
come the  sea.” 

The  scenery  on  leaving  New  York  is  delightful.  There  is 
a magniliceut  view  of  the  city  and  of  the  great  bridge  swung 
across  tlie  river  to  Brooklyn.  The  ba}"  wuis  full  of  vessels, 
tugs,  and  steamers.  Two  or  three  were  just  coming  in  from 
foreign  ports.  One  takes  an  interest  in  watching  the  buoys, 
which  in  great  numbers  float  like  jiainted  barrels  or  hogs- 
heads, some  red,  some  striped,  and  of  various  colors,  pointing 
out  places  of  danger.  They  are  chained  fast  to  the  rocks  and 
tell  where  ])eril  is  to  be  avoided.  Some  time  there  may  be 
telegraph  stations  and  light-houses  and  life-saving  stations  at 
intervals  all  the  way  across  the  ocean. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  of  the  early  scenes  of  a voyage 
is  the  -leaving  of  the  pilot.  Every  steamer  is  in  the  hands 
of  an  experienced  pilot  until  it  has  passed  Sandy  Hook  and 
is  beyond  buoy  No  1.  Knowdng  the  pilot  would  be  taken 


24 


THE  EMERALD  ISLE. 


from  us,  a sharp  lookout  was  kept  so  that  I might  see  him 
when  he  left  us;  and  withal,  I had  some  desire  at  least  to  get 
a postal-card  off  with  him  to  friends  left  behind.  Suddenly 
off  to  the  left  I caught  sight  of  a pilot  sail-boat,  from  which 
two  strong  seamen  in  a row-boat  came  plunging  toward  us 
over  the  boisterous  waves.  It  was  a wild  scene.  Often,  in 
the  language  of  the  psalmist,  “they  mount  up  to  the  heavens, 
they  go  down  again  to  the  depths.”  Sometimes  they  were 
entirely  out  of  sight,  though  near  us.  It  seemed  they  would 
never  rise  again,  so  deep  was  the  trough  of  the  sea  in  which 
they  sunk.  By  and  by  the  frail  thing  stood  alongside  our 
steamer,  and  a rope  was  let  down  from  above,  by  which  the 
men  steadied  their  boat  for  a few  moments  while  the  pilot 
([uickly  climbed  down  the  side  of  the  vessel  and  got  into  the 
boat  and  was  rowed  away  to  a steam-tug  which  was  in  wait- 
ing. Our  vessel  put  off  to  sea. 

There  is  one  acquaintance  to  be  made  on  a voyage  which 
must  be  formed  at  once.  Not  that  it  is  so  bewitching  as  to 
take  hold  of  the  affections,  but  because  of  a peculiar  power 
to  fascinate  the  stomach.  So  I made  my  first  acquaintance 
with  sea-sickness  greatly  against  my  will.  It  is  a thing, 
a sensation,  a monster,  a beast  of  evil  which  no  one  can 
describe.  I shall  not  try.  It  must  be  experienced  — yes, 
experienced  — not  to  be  enjoyed,  but  everlastingly  abhorred. 
One  feels  a little  dizzy  about  the  head  and  a little  squeamish 
about  the  stomach,  but  guesses  it  will  pass  off,  as  the  scenery 
is  so  grand  and  the  atmosphere  so  delicious  and  bracing.  One 
soon  wonders  if  any  besides  himself  has  these  sensations. 
Some  one  asks  if  you  “ have  experienced  any  of  the  sensa- 
tions of  sea-sickness.”  You  are  ashamed  of  yourself  You 
don’t  want  anybody  to  know  how  you  feel,  or  that  you  feel  at 
all.  You  answer,  “ I have  felt  better,  but  guess  I shall  be  all 
right  presently.”  -lust  how  that  state  of  affairs  is  to  come 
about  you  do  not  know.  ^Meantime  there  is  a nice  lady  led  to 
the  side  of  the  deck  to  vomit.  Some  lad  says  he  feels  sick, 
and  it  is  all  because  he  went  down  to  the  state-room  or  the 
saloon.  He  vows  he  will  not  go  down  there  again  for  all  the 


FOG. 


25 


water-proofs  the  women  have.  Jty  this  time  there  are  hosts 
who  have  gone  helow  to  try  it  alone  in  the  state-rooms. 
From  my  room  I conlcl  hear  at  least  a dozen  groaning,  crying, 
moaning,  and  vomiting.  By  this  time  one  is  in  a perspira- 
tion— no,  sir,  he  sweats.  Then  he  is  sick  — oh,  .so  sick!  I 
never  was  so  sick.  You  think  may  be  you  will  die.  If  you 
do,  3'ou  do  not  want  anybodv  to  know  it.  You  do  not  care  if 
you  would  die.  You  have  submitted,  and  are  willing  to  do 
anj'thing.  You  just  go  on  vomiting.  Some  one  says,  “You 
don’t  vomit  — \'ou  throw  uji.”  Just  so  I found  it.  You  just 
throw  up  until  your  very  gizzard  is  out  of  }'ou,  and  3’our  back 
is  unjointed,  and  3-ou  are  all  gone  eveiw  wa3".  It  was  not 
a little  remarkable  tliat  with  perhaps  nine  out  of  ten  down 
sick,  still  there  were  those  who  went  right  through  the  vov- 
age  without  the  least  inconvenience,  and  nev'er  missed  a meal. 
The  ladies  seemed  to  suffer  the  most.  Some  were  ver3'  ill 
indeed. 

A hcav3'  rain-fall  in  mid-ocean  is  an  interesting  phenome- 
non. With  it  the  wind  often  drives  against  the  vessel  with 
great  fuiy.  The  waves  dash  high,  lashing  their  great  sheets 
over  the  deck,  and  giving  free  baths  to  heroic  passengers. 

One  of  the  unpleasant  experiences  at  sea  is  the  passing 
through  a dense  fog.  For  a night  and  part  of  a day  our  vessel 
was  in  deep  darkness.  Sometimes  this  continues  for  a longer 
time.  The  fog  on  the  Atlantic  is  veiy  dense.  For  many 
hours  our  officers  could  not  see  half  the  length  of  the  vessel 
before  the  prow.  The  heavv  fc)g-horn  was  sounded,  and  all 
night  long,  ever3'  minute,  its  tremendous  tones  sounded  out 
over  the  darkened  and  angiy  billows  of  the  awful  deeji.  This 
was  to  advise  aii3'  ve.ssel  which  might  chance  to  be  passing 
near,  so  that  there  should  be  no  collision.  There  ma3'  have 
been  no  vessel  within  a hundred  miles;  vet  the  signal  of 
danger  never  stopped  till  the  warm  sun  poured  down  its 
beams  with  a heat  which  lifted  the  dark  cloud. 

After  being  out  four  da3's,  and  not  a moment's  cessation  of 
speed,  one  da3^  our  vessel  suddenl3’  stopped.  The  sensation 
was  peculiar,  from  the  different  motion  of  the  vessel  on  the 


26 


THE  EMEJLILD  ISLE. 


■\vavGS.  The  sails  were  run  up,  but  did  little  to  carry  the 
vessel.  Soon  the  re]>airs  were  made  and  the  sluggish,  drifting 
sensation  was  over,  and  our  “city"'  was  riding  straight  over 
the  waves. 

'When  sea-.sickness  is  i)assed  and  ac<iuaintaiices  are  formed, 
ocean  voyaging  is  delightful  beyond  e.xpectation.  Every 
nerve  and  muscle  becomes  adjusted  to  the  motions  of  the  ves- 
sel; and  it  is  indeed  rocking  in  the  cradle  of  the  deej).  The 
ocean,  in  grandeur,  is  beyond  all  descrij)tion.  There  is  a hint 
of  its  vastne.«s  in  the  great  prairies,  and  a suggestion  of  its 
beauty,  variety,  and  wonder  in  the  clouds  of  heaven.-  It  rolls, 
it  swells,  it  Hows,  it  seems  to  nestle  to  stillness,  and  then  rises 
and  swells  again  and  again.  Great  mountains  of  wav('s  arc 
dashed  and  broken  in  pieces,  and  crested  white  with  foam. 
Then  their  broad,  hollow  sides,  like  mountain  declivities,  pre- 
sent their  blueish-green  forms  crested  or  sprinkled  with  white 
foam.  Sometimes  the  horizon  ])resents  tlie  a{)pearaiure  of 
great  mountains  in  the  distance;  sometimes  that  of  sunset. 
But,  seem  as  it  may,  there  is  nothing  but  the  heavens  above, 
and  water,  water,  water,  oceans  of  eternal  watei',  beneath  and 
all  around.  Now  and  then  a steamer  or  a sailing-vessel  is 
seen  ofl'  in  the  solitary  ocean  at  a great  distance,  perhai)S  ten, 
twenty,  or  thirty  miles  away.  This  is  a grand  sight.  Early 
one  morning  we  had  such  a view,  after  being  out  almost  a 
week.  The  sun  was  just  up  from  behind  th(‘  blue  wave.s. 
The  ocean  was  calm.  The  great  billows  seemed  to  have  been 
broken  by  the  Master  into  little  ri])ples.  Over  all  the  sun 
sprinkled  a sheen  of  light.  It  brought  vividly  to  mind  the 
second  verse  of  the  fifteenth  chaj)ter  of  Ib'velation  — "And  I 
saw  as  it  were  a sea  of  glass  mingled  with  fire:  and  them 
that  had  gotten  the  victory  over  the  beast,  and  over  his  image, 
and  over  his  mark,  and  over  the  number  of  his  name,  stand 
on  the  sea  of  glass,  having  the  harps  of  God.’'  The  vessel 
rose  in  sight  gently  but  slowly  fai-  off  to  the  right  and  front. 
After  half  an  hour  its  hull  could  be  distinctly  seen.  'With 
the  aid  of  a good  glass  it  seemed  not  more  than  a mile  away, 
just  to  the  right  of  us.  It  looked  like  a ciueen  of  beauty.  It 


Bl'RIAL  AT  SEA. 


27 


was  probably  twent}'  miles  distant.  Little  by  little  it  seemed 
farther  and  farther  off,  until  at  last  tlie  hull  disapj)eared. 
Then  only  the  top  of  the  sails  was  visible.  At  last  it  faded 
out  like  a speck  on  the  distant  waters.  This  pleasant  sunrise 
and  picture  of  beauty  came  as  a fitting  beam  of  bliss  to  my 
heart.  Just  two  hours  before  I had  witnessed  the  most  sor- 
I’owful  and  Aveird  scene  my  eyes  ever  belield, — the  burial  of  a 
fellow-mortal  in  the  depths  of  the  murmuring,  Avide,  deep  sea. 

On  Thursday  evening  it  became  known  that  a lady  among 
the  steerage  passengers  had  died.  She  Avas  a native  of  Ire- 
land, and  Avas  returning  to  her  own  country  Avith  a son  aged 
ab  ut  eighteen  years.  She  Avas  ill  of  consumption  Avhen  she 
came  on  board,  but  had  hoped  to  get  back  to  her  native  land 
at  least  in  time  to  die  and  be  buried  there.  I resolved  to  Avit- 
ness  the  last  sad  funeral  rites.  As  late  as  eleven  o’clock  on 
Thursday  night  I saAV  the  purser  of  the  ship  and  told  him 
nicely  that  I wanted  to  Avitness  the  funeral.  He  said  the 
orders  for  the  burial  had  not  been  given  by  the  captain,  but 
if  he  found  out  Avhen  it  would  occur  in  time  to  let  me  know 
he  Avould  do  so.  A sulAordinate  officer  told  me  it  Avould  be 
better  to  be  on  deck  by  six  o'clock  in  the  morning.  I thought 
best  to  put  a margin  of  an  hour  and  a half  to  the  chances, 
and  accordingly  Dr.  Thompson  and  myself  Avere  u}3  by  4:30 
A.  M.  Four  other  saloon-passengers  Avere  alike  skillful ; and 
these  Avith  the  captain,  the  purser,  the  surgeon,  and  six  strong 
sailors  A\'ho  bore  the  body,  made 'the  cortege  to  the  Avide  tomb. 
The  burial  occurred  promjAtly  at  five  o’clock.  None  of  the 
steerage  pa.ssengers  knew  of  it,  and  the  son  of  the  dead 
mother  Avas  not  awakened  from  his  sorroAvful  slumber  to  Avit- 
ness the  deeper  anguish  of  her  burial.  The  corpse  Avas  in  a 
plain  coffin,  Avhich  rested  upon  a heavy  plank  ten  or  twelve 
feet  long.  This  Avas  carried  by  six  strong  seamen;  and  one 
end  rested  upon  the  side  of  the  vessel,  Avhile  their  shoulders 
held  up  the  other.  Around  the  coffin  was  Avrapped  a large 
English  flag.  The  captain  read  the  Episcopal  service  for  the 
dead.  AVhen  that  part  of  the  service  Avas  reached  requiring  the 
loAvering  of  the  coffin,  the  head  end  of  the  board  was  sloAA'ly 


28 


THE  EMERALD  ISLE. 


elevated  until  the  corpse  slipped  overboard  feet  foremost;  and 
down,  down  went  the  body  of  the  dead.  The  coffin  being 
weighted,  the  feet  first  struck  the  dashing  waves,  and  the  old 
ocean  received  another  addition  to  the  already  countless  num- 
ber of  the  dead  who  sleep  in  her  awful  bosom.  The  reading 
of  the  burial-service  went  On  tenderly,  yet  without  trembling, 
to  its  close.  The  vessel  had  never  stopped  or  slacked  her 
sjieed,  yet  one  of  her  passengers  had  landed  on  the  eternal 
shore.  I could  but  think  of  the  poor  boy  who  lay  sleeping  a 
few  paces  away,  with  his  sorrow-burdened  heart  at  rest;  of  the 
tenderness  and  love  which  slept  unconscious  all  through  the 
vessel,  and  which  would  have  loved  to  perform  some  kindly 
ministry  if  it  could  have  served  any  heart  or  any  interest; 
and  of  the  bereaved  somewhere.  Never  before  had  I seen 
such  meaning  in  the  words  of  the  revelator  — “And  the  sea 
gave  up  the  dead  which  were  in  it;  and  death  and  hell  deliv- 
ered up  the  dead  which  were  in  them.”  It  is  a grand  grave. 
It  is  better  than  cremation  to  my  sense.  But  after  witnessing 
this  sad,  lone  funeral,  it  is  my  deliberate  preference  to  die  at 
home,  in  the  bosom  of  its  tender  ministrations  of  love,  and  to 
be  buried  among  brethren  and  kindred.  Sailors  are  almost 
superstitious  with  regard  to  deaths  on  sea.  Two  days  before 
this  death  a very  little  bird  came  on  our  ves.sel,  wearied  and 
almost  dead.  Its  appearance  was  considered  a token  of  death. 
We  call  this  superstition,  and  yet  I shall  never  forget  trying 
to  catch  that  little  yellow  bird  nor  the  sad  burial  at  sea.  A 
da}’  or  two  later  the  captain  expres.sed  much  astonishment 
when  he  learned  that  I had  witnessed  the  funeral,  and  told 
me  that  burials  were  always  conducted  Avith  the  greatest 
privacy. 

I often  found  amusement  in  watching  the  porpoises  which 
seemed  to  fie  jumping  and  racing  along  by  the  ship,  just  to 
show  themselves.  Some  of  them  appear  to  be  six  or  eight 
feet  long,  and  look  like  a lish  in  the  shape  of  a hog.  They 
leap  ten  feet  out  of  the  Avater,  and  skip  along  on  the  surface 
now  and  then.  They  are  ahvays  seen  in  comjianies  of  from 
three  to  six,  and  folloAv  the  A’essel  five  or  more  minutes. 


THE  VESSEL. 


29 


Then  we  were  often  cheered  by  tlie  sight  of  “ Mother’s  Cary’s 
chickens,”  which  dy  about  in  grouj)S  of  four  or  six.  Tbcy 
look  much  like  our  swallow.  A fowl  more  frequently  seen  in 
mid-ocean  is  the  sea-gull.  These  gulls  flying  at  a great  dis- 
tance resemble  a crow.  Seen  closer,  it  is  noticed  that  their 
breasts  are  white  and  their  wings  much  larger  than  the 
crow.  They  fly  very  close  to  the  water,  and  are  often  seen 
sitting  on  the  waves.  They  seem  to  be  in  quest  of  fishes. 

I must  close  this  chapter  with  a brief  descrij^tion  of  our 
vessel,  in  order  to  give  the  inland  reader  some  idea  of  the 
ponderousness  of  these  great  steamers  which  plow  the  deep. 
They  arc  Avonders  of  art.  The  “City  of  Beilin”  is  a fair 
specimen,  being  one  of  the  largest  on  the  Atlantic.  It  is  over 
five  hundred  feet  long,  with  corresi)onding  width  and  height; 
carries  one  thousand  four  Imndred  and  forty-seven  cabin 
passengers;  is  manned  by  a crew  consisting  of  one  hundred 
and  forty-seven  jiersons;  and  its  saloon  seats  at  meals  one 
hundred  and  forty-three  at  a time.  Its  equiimient  every  Avay 
is  masterly.  It  has  twelve  boilers,  each  having  three  furnaces. 
Nine  persons  are  kept  throwing  coal  into  the  furnaces.  It 
was  completing  its  fifty-seventh  voyage.  Captain  James  Ken- 
nedy is  commander  of  the  Inman  fleet.  He  was  then  mak- 
ing his  one  hundred  and  fourteenth  trip  as  the  captain  of  the 
“City  of  Berlin.”  He  has  crossed  the  Atlantic,  as  master, 
over  five  hundred  times.  As  I administered  to  him  a little 
catechism,  some  one  hinted  to  him  that  he  might  be  written 
uji.  He  shoAved  tAA’o  crackers  on  Avhich  he  Avas  lunching,  and 
said,  “This  is  my  lunch.  As  a rule,  people  eat  too  much  at 
sea.  Give  me  a long  rope  and  make  the  agony  short.”  The 
officers  and  steAvards  Avere  all  Englishmen,  and  Avere  courteous 
and  gentlemanly  in  the  highest  degree.  The  state-rooms  are 
small  but  comfortable.  The  one  occupied  by  Dr.  Thompson 
and  myself  Avas  like  the  New  Jerusalem, — four  square, — but 
not  nearly  so  large — just  eight  feet  long,  eight  feet  high,  and 
eight  feet  Avide.  The  proAUsions  of  the  table  Avere  all  that 
the  most  fastidious  or  hoggish  taste  could  demand ; that  is, 
good,  A^aried,  and  an  abundance  of  them.  We  had  breakfast 


30 


THE  EMERALD  ISLE. 


served  from  8.00  a.m.  to  9;30  a.  m.;  lunch  from  1:00  p.  m.  to 
2:30  p.  M.;  dinner  from  5:00  p.  M.  to  6:30  p.  M.;  lunch  at  9:00 
p.  M.  Here  is  the  bill  of  fare  for  dinner,  Tuesday,  August  11th: 

Soup  — ureeii  turlle,  03’ster;  lish  — salmon,  ^vith  cucumbers,  parsley 
sauce;  entreen,  etc. — fricassee  of  calves’  feet,  snijje  on  toast,  joints;  roast 
beef  aiul  i>iulcling,  saddle  of  mutton  and  currant  jell3’,  roast  fillet  of  veal, 
roast  sucking  jjig,  apple-sauce,  roast  lamb;  jJOultry — roast  ducklings, 
boiled  turkey  with  vinegar,  roasted  and  boiled  chicken,  roast  turkey; 
vegetables — green  corn,  string  beans,  plain  boiled  and  mashed  potatoes; 
cold  meals — ham  and  tongue;  pastry — plum-pudding  and  brandy-sauce, 
bakewell  pudding,  apple  hedgehog,  tapioca  pudding,  jamsnip  ruse,  Gen- 
oese pastrv,  rice  with  custard,  calves’-foot  jellj’;  ice-cream  ; cheese — seven 
kinds;  cofiee,  tea,  chocolate. 

It  is  a terrible  array,  yet  many  kept  up  prompt  attendance 
upon  every  meal,  eating  in  proportion  to  the  bill  of  fare,  and 
still  lived  to  get  ashore. 


CHAPTER  II 


Sighting  Laiul  — Coast  of  Ireland  — Passing  the  Custom-House  — Eme- 
rald Isle— St.  Patrick  — Names  of  Company  — Irish  Jaunting-Car— 
Blarney  Castle — Kissing  tlie  Blarney-Stone  — City  of  Cork  — Bells 
of  Shandon. 

HI^FTER  a voyage  of  eight  days  on  the  ocean,  the  granJ- 
^ est  tiling  possible  is  tlie  sight  of  land.  The  first 
t glimpse  of  solid  form  rising  above  tlie  ocean  waves 

was  the  upper  peaks  of  the  Skelligs,  off  the  coast  of  Ire- 
ijG  land,  tvhich  was  caught  on  Sabbath  afternoon.  These 
i two  immense  and  indescribable  rocks,  towering  probably 
two  hundred  feet  above  the  edge  of  the  water,  at  a distance  of 
about  fifteen  miles  from  the  shoi’e,  stand  as  sentinels  of  the 
south-west  corner  of  the  Emerald  Isle.  The}' are  off  the  coast 
of  the  County  of  Kerry,  and  may  mark  what  was  once  really 
the  coast-line.  The  scene  beheld  as  the  vessel  followed  around 
the  rock-bound  coast  of  Ireland  was  wonderful  in  picturesque 
grandeur.  For  a distance  of  nearly  a hundred  miles  our 
steamer  sailed  in  sight  of  the  rocky  shores  and  distant  hills 
and  mountains.  Such  rugged,  wild,  and  stalwart  works  of  God 
were  a grand  de.ssert  to  mental  appetites  just  a little  gorged 
with  the  sea.  East  of  the  Skelligs  is  Valencia,  a mountain 
height,  from  the  foot  of  which  the  first  Atlantic  cable  was  laid 
from  the  Great  Eastern,  by  Cyrus  W.  Field.  Sixty-four  miles 
from  (iueonstown  is  Fastnet  Light-house.  It  is  built  upon 
a tremendous  rocL,  which  towers  up  to  great  height  in  the 
midst  of  the  ocean.  The  steamer  passed  within  a few  miles 
of  it,  so  that  it  could  be  seen  very  distinctly.  All  along  this 
bleak  and  rock-bound  coast  there  are  immense  light-houses, 
which  cast  their  light  far  out  over  the  ocean.  Eight  miles 

31 


32 


THE  EMERALD  ISLE. 


out  from  Queenstown  our  steamer  was  met  by  a tug  which 
received  passengers  and  mails  for  Ireland,  and  the  “ City  of 
Berlin”  went  to  Liverpool.  It  was  a pageant  to  behold  as  the 
ship  drove  away  from  our  tug  through  the  mellow  moonlight, 
with  the  light  gleaming  from  her  hundreds  of  windows,  and 
her  crew  cheering  and  laughing  at  our  little  tug-boat.  By 
10:30  r.  >i.  our  boat  entered  the  splendid  harbor  and  jmlled 
up  at  the  wharf  at  Queenstown,  where  the  company  had 
intended  to  land.  It  was  the  occasion  of  a great  regatta,  and 
we  being  informed  that  the  hotels  were  crowded.  Captain 
Jenkins  chartered  the  boat  for  the  city  of  Cork,  thirteen  miles 
farther  up  the  River  Lee. 

At  (Queenstown  the  company  of  fifty  to  seventy-five  per- 
sons, many  of  them  ladies,  were  put  through  the  custom- 
house. It  was  the  grandest  farce  I ever  saw  enacted.  It  was 
a scene  worthy  the  sketching  of  an  artist.  There  were  about 
half  a tlozen  Irishmen  going  about  with  little  lamps,  or  cau- 
dles, opening  and  looking  into  valises  and  trunks.  Men  and 
women,  old  and  young,  were  clambering  about  in  the  darkness 
over  the  baggage,  talking  and  hunting,  and  untying  ropes 
and  unbuckling  straps,  so  as  to  allow  the  officers  to  get  a peep. 
There  was  no  order  aI)out  it.  Soon  as  one  got  done  with  a 
trunk  another  attacked  the  same  trunk,  and  he  was  only  pre- 
vented from  proceeding  by  being  ^rushed  off  and  told  the 
thing  had  been  attended  to.  And  so  the  scene  went  on  for 
nearly  two  hours,  and  until  nearly  one  o’clock  in  the  night. 

The  ride  up  the  harbor  of  Cork  by  moonlight  is  a delight. 
Black  Rock  Castle  is  a sj)lendid  sight.  Near  it  was  the  home 
of  William  Penn,  and  from  it  he  embarked  for  America.  At 
two  o’clock  in  the  night  our  tug  pulled  in  to  the  quay  at  Cork. 

Ireland  is  one  of  the  brightest  spots  of  God's  green  earth, 
in  its  natural  aspects.  This  is  true  of  a large  part  of  the 
island.  It  lies  directly  west  of  England,  and  south-west  of 
Scotland,  and  is  divided  from  England  on  the  east  by  the  Irish 
Sea,  one  hundred  and  thirty  miles  wide,  on  the  north-east 
by  the  North  Channel,  fourteen  miles  wide.  It  lies  nearly 
in  the  latitude  of  Labrador,  between  fifty-one  and  fifty-five. 


J^AMES  OF  COMPANY. 


33 


It  has  an  area  of  twenty  million  eight  hundred  and  eight 
thousand  two  hundred  and  sevent}’-one  acres,  the  length  being 
three  hundred  and  four  miles,  and  Avidth  one  hundred  and 
ninety-four  miles.  Yet,  by  reason  of  the  influence  of  the  gulf- 
stream,  the  waters  of  which  flow  warm  from  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico,  its  climate  is  about  that  of  tlie  central  portion  of  the 
United  States,  though  much  less  varied,  the  mean  temperature 
being  from  48°  to  50°.  Its  winters  are  less  cold  and  its  sum- 
mers less  hot  than  those  of  England  or  Scotland.  It  grows 
sheep  and  cattle  in  abundance;  oats,  barley,  and  some  whealt, 
with  potatoes.  You  see  no  corn  here.  It  is,  indeed,  an  Eme- 
rald Isle.  I never  saw  verdure  until  here.  The  humid  atmos- 
})here  gives  to  the  grass,  the  trees,  and  the  shrubs  a greenness 
beyond  all  description,  while  the  hills  and  the  forests  and  the 
hedges  are  adorned  Avith  flowers  of  splendid  delicacy  and 
beauty. 

Who  discovered  the  Emerald  Isle?  St.  Patrick.  Who 
drove  all  the  snakes  out  of  Ireland?  St.  Patrick.  Who  in- 
vented the  Irish  cart?  St.  Patrick.  Who  invented  the  Irish 
jaunting-car?  St.  Patrick.  Yes,  all  this  and  much  more,  for 
this  is  “ ouid  Ireland,”  the  land  of  St.  Patrick. 

A company  of  tAventy-six  Avas  organized  into  a special 
American  party  for  a tour  through  Ireland,  Scotland,  and 
England,  on  the  morning  of  August  15th,  in  the  city  of  Cork, 
h'he  company  Avas  composed  of  most  agreeable  gentlemen 
and  ladies.  As  a faint  tribute  to  the  friendship  of  these  trav- 
eling companions,  I here  give  their  names  and  residences: 

Rev.  Dr.  J.  B.  McFerrin,  Miss  McFerriu,  Miss  Mollie  Edwards,  Nash- 
ville, Tennessee;  Mrs.  N.  C.  Collier,  Miss  Lulu  Collier,  Murfreesborough, 
Tennes.see;  W.  W.  Sedgwick,  E.sq.,  Sandwich,  Illinois;  H.  B.  McKenzie, 
Esq.,  Ilavorstraw,  New  York;  Hon.  J.  J.  Gille.spie,  Mrs.  Gillespie,  Miss 
Jessie  Gillespie,  Miss  Mamie  Rhodes,  Pittsburgh,  Pa.;  Rev.  Dr.  H.  A. 
Thompson,  Westerville,  Ohio;  Miss  A.  Ledlie,  Utica,  New  York  ; Rev.  G. 
W.  MilLr,  Wilmington,  Delaware;  lion.  James  Burns,  Mrs.  Burns,  Miss 
IJzzic  Newland,  Detroit,  Michigan;  E.  M.  Jenkins,  Esq.,  Mrs.  Jenkins, 
New  York;  Hon.  W.  C.  DePauw,  Charles  W.  DePauw,  New  Albany, 
Indiana;  D.  Banning,  Esq.,  ^Ir.s.  Banning,  Miss  Banning,  Cincinnati, 
Ohio ; Rev.  R.  N.  Standifer,  Concordia,  Mississippi ; Rev.  Dr.  Waugh, 
India. 


3 


34 


THE  EMERALD  ISLE. 


The  party  was  under  the  special  care  of  Mr.  E.  M.  Jenkins, 
an  expert  tourist,  of  271  Broadway,  New  York.  I can  only 
show  the  reader  a few  pictures  of  things  seen  here  and  there 
in  the  Emerald  Isle. 

The  Irish  jaunting-car  is  one  of  the  first  things  a traveler 
becomes  acquainted  with,  in  Ireland.  Now,  this  thing  called 
the  Irish  jaunting-car  is  unlike  all  other  vehicles  of  every 
kind  known  in  the  civilized  world.  But  let  it  be  remembered 
that  few  vehicles  have  more  than  two  “whales"’  in  Ireland. 
So  the  jaunting-car  has  but  two.  The}'  are  riglit  under  it 
and  intended  for  business.  The  driver  sits  in  front.  Four 
persons  ride  in  a car,  besides  the  driver.  The  car  has  no 
cover,  and  you  sit  two  on  a side  with  your  backs  squarely  to- 
ward the  backs  of  your  partners,  who  sit  on  the  other  side, 
while  the  feet  rest  on  a kind  of  shelf  witlun  a foot  of  the 
ground.  The  wheel,  which  is  low,  is  directly  under  the  seat. 
One  thinks  at  first  that  he  will  upset  either  sidewise,  or  back- 
waid,  or  forward,  or  all  three  ways  at  once.  Then  he  finds 
comfort  in  the  thought  that  it  would  not  hurt  anybody  if  he 
did.  There  are  cover-cars  in  Ireland,  and  wagonettes,  but  for 
sightseeing  there  is  nothing  equal  to  the  jauiiting-car. 

The  drivers  of  these  cars  are  witty, from  nature  and  by  pro- 
fession. They  follow  wit  for  a business,  as  I learned  on  my 
first  experience  with  them. 

I must  first  of  all  take  the  reader  to  the  famous  Blarney 
Castle.  According  to  the  tradition  it  will  be  helpful  to  all. 
It  is  reached  by  a most  splendid  road,  at  a distance  of  eight 
miles  from  Cork.  The  road  lies  along  the  “sweet  mossy  banks 
of  the  River  Lee.”  There  are  old  gray  walls  on  either  side  at 
many  places;  then  delightful  shades  and  walks,  with  hills 
covei’ed  with  pine,  spruce,  fir,  hemlock,  and  trees  and  hills 
trellaeed  with  vines  and  flowers.  The  landscape  scenes  are 
most  charming  to  the  eye.  I soon  found  that  the  driver  of 
the  car  was  a bland,  “fluid  talker.”  He  was  of  course  unedu- 
cated— could  neither  read  nor  write.  In  this  I describe  the 
thousands  of  cab-drivers  in  Ireland.  He  soon  began  to  quote 
poetry.  I said  to  him,  “You  are  well  versed  in  poetry.  Who 


KISSING  THE  BLARNEY-STONE. 


35 


is  the  great  poet  of  Ireland?”  “Faith,  and  I could  not  tell, 
sir;  for  I am  a very  good  poet  myself,”  was  the  witty  reply. 
I soon  learned  that  all  this  was  practicing  his  profession  — 
the  amusing  of  the  traveler  with  the  hope  of  getting  a shil- 
ling. They  are  half  jjaid  by  the  owners  of  the  car,  and  man- 
age to  beg  the  balance  out  of  the  traveler,  though  he  has  paid 
for  car,  drivei’,  and  all. 

Blarney  Castle  is  not  a myth.  It  was  built  in  the  fifteenth 
century,  by  Cormac  McCarthy  or  by  the  Countess  of  Desmond. 
It  is  in  its  foundation  about  one  hundred  feet  square,  and  is  a 
massive  tower  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet  bigh.  The  lord 
of  Blarney  must  have  had  strong  ideas;  for  the  walls  of  the 
castle  are  from  ten  to  thirteen  feet  thick.  Tlie  castle  has  four 
stories;  but  of  course  only  the  walls  remain.  You  reach  the 
heights  by  a flight  of  stairs,  through  the  tower,  of  one  hundred 
and  eight  steps.  It  was  intended  to  defy  power  and  powder 
and  time.  Lord  Cromwell  captured  it  in  his  visit  to  Cork. 
The  castle  is  about  as  wonderful  as  the  fancy-power  attributed 
to  the  Blarney-Stone,  so  famous,  which  has  been  a by-word 
throughout  the  world.  When  Millikin  wrote  his  song  on 
“The  Groves  of  Blarnej',”  1799,  this  foolish  notion  reached  its 
zenith,  that  whoever  kissed  this  stone  should  be  eloquent  and 
poetic.  The  story  is  told  that  the  Blarney-Stone,  which  bore 
the  inscription,  “ComacA  MacCartluj  Fortis  mi  fieri  feed,  A.  D. 
1446,”  which  is  now  illegible,  was  and  is  to  be  .seen  only  at 
the  north  angle,  clasped  by  two  iron  bars  suspended  over  the 
buttress  of  the  wall,  so  that  one  had  to  hang  over  the  wall  by 
the  bars  to  kiss  it.  But  another  stone  about  three  feet  long  is 
suspended  to  a projecting  buttress,  which  is  comparatively' 
easy  of  access  to  the  candidate  of  blarney  eloquence.  It  also  is 
clasped  by  two  iron  bars,  and  bears  date  1703.  I saw  a num- 
ber of  young  men  — lawyers  — and  young  women  perform  the 
feat;  but  for  myself,  I risked  nothing  on  such  nonsense.  I 
shall  never  forget  how  anxious  many  ladies,  whom  I saw  there, 
were  to  kiss  this  old  stone.  They  must  bend  down  over  an 
opening  through  which  if  one  were  to  fall  he  would  be  pre- 
cipitated almost  one  hundred  feet  to  the  ground.  Then  the 


36 


THE  EMERALD  ISLE. 


face  must  be  turned  upward  and  the  stone  kissed  on  the  bot- 
tom, as  it  is  a kind  of  lintel.  It  required  from  two  to  six 
men  to  hold  a lady  while  she  lay  down  and  thrust  her  head 
and  twisted  her  neck  and  face  and  mouth  until  the  cold  stone 
was  kissed,  and  the  fancy  of  the  legend  honored.  “Father 
Front”  wrote, — 

“ There  is  a stone  there, 

That  whoever  kisses, 

Oh  he  never  nii.sses 
To  grow  eloquent.” 

As  we  drove  toward  Cork  the  driver  of  the  car  would  rej^eat 
over  and  over,  as  if  in  a joyous  reverie,  this  stanza: 

“ Tlie  groves  of  lUarnej' 

•Tliey  look  so  eharniing 
Down  by  the  pearling 
Of  sweet,  silent  streams. 

Being  bank’d  with  posies. 

That  spontaneous  grow  there, 

Planted  in  order, 

By  the  sweet  rock  close.” 

The  city  of  Cork  has  about  eigh'ty-five  thousand  people, 
only  ten  thousand  of  whom  are  Protestants.  It  is  the  capital 
of  southern  Ireland  in  beauty  and  wealth.  It  is  said  to  have 
been  founded  in  the  ninth  century  by  the  Daties,  it  having 
long  been  the  place  of  a pagan  temple.  It  is  probable  that 
its  founding  was  yet  earlier  than  above  stated.  Oliver  Crom- 
well subdued  the  city  in  1649,  when  he  was  there  for  a short 
time.  The  name  Cork,  formerly  “Corrach,”  means  a swamp, 
and  was  given  it  from  its  position  on  the  River  Lee.  The 
Queen’s  College  is  here,  to  which  students  of  all  denomina- 
tions are  admitted.  The  principal  street  is  St.  Patrick;  and 
the  St.  Patrick  bridge  over  the  harbor,  built  in  1860,  is  of 
stone,  and  is  sixty  feet  between  the  parapets.  The  city  streets 
are  narrow,  and  the  side-walks  are  made  of  stone.  Near  tire 
bridge  is  a statue  of  Father  i\Iatthew,  the  great  Irish  apostle 
of  temperance,  dated  1856,  as  a tribute  from  a grateful  people. 
It  was  in  Cork  that  William  Penn  was  converted  to  the 
Quaker  faith;  and  a number  of  those  people  yet  reside  in 


BELLS  OF  SHAXDOX. 


37 


the  community.  It  is  now  the  home  of  Parnell,  the  Irish 
agitator. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  places  there  is  the  quaint  old 
church,  with 

“ Tlie  bells  of  Shanclon, 

Which  sound  so  grand  on 
The  pleasant  watei'S 
Of  the  River  Lee.” 

The  church  is  a quaint  and  almost  grotesque  structure,  which 
well  repays  a visit.  It  bears  the  marks  of  antiquity.  I do 
not  know  when  it  was  first  built.  It  was  destroyed  in  1690, 
and  rebuilt  in  1720.  The  old  fountain  in  front  of  the  altar 
bears  date  1629.  In  its  glory  as  a state  church  it  had  five  cu- 
rates, and  paid  a salary  of  about  nine  thousand  dollars  a year. 
It  was  then  one  of  the  largest  parishes  in  Ireland.  Its  tower 
is  nearly  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  high.  I reached  its  sum- 
mit by  crawling  up  over  many  dark  steps  of  stone,  through 
narrow  ways.  The  church  is  now  dingy  and  alnmst  dilapi- 
dated, and  has  only  an  attendance  of  one  hundred  or  one 
hundred  and  fifty  persons.  It  has  an  old  curate  nearly  eighty 
years  old,  who  will  neither  die  nor  resign.  In  its  immense 
tower  swing  the  far-famed  “bells  of  Shandon.”  They  are  eight 
in  number,  and  of  good  and  delicate  tone,  and  bear  date  A. 
D.  17-50.  They  are  rung  by  a huge  clock.  Every  fifteen  min- 
utes their  tones  ring  out  over  the  city.  There  are  four  strokes 
at  the  one-fourth  hour,  eight  at  the  half  hour,  twelve  at  three- 
fourths  hour,  with  sixteen  at  the  full  hour  and  a heavy  bass 
bell  tolling  the  number  of  the  hour.  Here  in  the  church-3'ard 
is  buried  Rev.  Francis  Mahonj^,  called  Father  Prout,  who 
wrote  the  “Bells  of  Shandon.”  I close  this  chapter  with  two 
stanzas  from  that  pretty  poem  : 

“ With  deep  affection 
And  recollection 
I often  think  on 
Those  Shandon  bells, 

Whose  sounds  so  wild  would, 

In  the  days  of  childhood, 

Fling  round  my  cradle 
Their  magic  spells. 


“ I’ve  heard  bells  chiming 
Full  many  a clime  in, 
Tolling  sublime  in 
Cathedral  shrine, 

While  at  a glib  rate 
Brass  tongues  would  vibrate; 
But  all  their  music 
Spoke  naught  like  thine.” 


) 


CHAPTER  III. 


Reign  of  Terror  — B-‘ggars— Glengariff — Little  Things  — Frances  Clare 
— Lakes  of  Killarney  — Gap  of  Dnnloe — Innisfallen  — Old  Abbeys  — 
Irish  Wit — Kildare  Fame- — The  Unextinguishable  Fire. 

EVERAL  days  tvere  spent  in  the  disaffected  regions 
of  Ireland.  This  southern  ])ortion  is  by  far  the  poor- 
est part  of  the  island.  On  the  way  to  Bantry,  sixty 
les  south-west  from  Cork,  I saw  where  some  evictions 
re  occurring,  and  where  the  Irish  Land-League  were 
ivkling  homes  for  those  who  had  thus  been  turned 
from  their  tenements  for  which  they  had  not  jiaid  the  rental, 
^luch  excitement  prevailed  here  and  tliere  over  the  recent 
killing  of  landlords.  Xo  iiunishment  could  be  inflicted.  The 
citizens  knew  w'ho  the  murderers  were,  but  would  not  tell. 
Life  was  in  great  danger,  and  the  peasants  were  full  of  hatred 
to  the  landlords.  The  whole  country  was  overrun  with  sol- 
diers. In  the  little  town  of  Bantry  there  were  one  hundred  and 
fifty  of  the  royal  arm\'.  There  was,  indeed,  a reign  of  terror. 

Westward,  acro.ss  the  mountains  of  Kerry,  a route  of  eleven 
miles,  made  over  a splendid  road  by  car  (car  there  means  the 
jaunting-car  or  wagonette),  the  tourist  witnesses  a scene  he 
can  never  forget.  As  the  road  winds  and  turns  around  the 
arms  of  the  Bay  of  Bantry,  ]wor  children  come  out  one  after 
another,  following  the  company,  begging.  They  are  ragged 
beyond  description.  Their  hair  seems  never  to  have  been 
combed,  and  their  whole  person  is  covered  with  dirt.  They 
look  as  if  they  had  to  wait  for  rain  to  wasln  One  after  an- 
other comes  running  after  the  company,  hallooing,  “A  penny, 
if  ye  plaize,  miss,”  ‘‘A  penny,  if  ye  i^laize,  sir,”  or,  “Some- 
thing, if  ye  plaize,  sir.”  At  one  time  there  were  more  than 

38 


LITTLE  THINGS. 


39 


twentj'  of  these  little  squalid  urchins,  ranging  in  age  from 
six  to  twelve  years,  following  our  company;  and  this  contin- 
ued for  a distance  of  two  or  three  miles.  Every  now  and 
tlien  when  a piece  of  monej'  was  thrown  uj:)on  the  hard  j^ike, 
there  would  be  sucli  a scramble  for  it  as  among  half-starved 
chickens  running  for  one  grain  of  corn.  They  did  not  look 
starved,  for  the}'  were  plump,  with  rosy  cheeks  glowing 
through  the  dirt.  AViiile  such  a scene  furnished  amusement 
for  a moment  to  some,  I hope  never  to  see  the  like  again. 

GlengaritF  is  a beautiful  and  picturesque  spot.  It  is  a glen 
al)Out  tliree  miles  long  and  about  half  a mile  wide,  lying 
ui>on  the  Bay  of  Bantry.  The  hills  around  it  can  hardly  be 
called  mountains  for  lack  of  height,  yet  their  ruggedness  and 
sharpness  of  feature  give  them  that  aspect.  The  bay  is  sur- 
rounded by  irregular  banks  covered  with  willows  and  grass, 
and  every  variety  of  green  hills  sloping  back  to  miniature 
mountains,  while  just  a mile  away  from  the  shore  are  nearly 
a half  dozen  little  islands  dropped  down  just  for  beauty.  The 
mountains  all  about  are  covered  with  the  heather  celebrated 
and  made  clas.sic  by  Sir  Thomas  Moore,  the  Irish  jwet. 

Before  taking  the  reader  farther  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  2>ut 
in  a paragraph  of  little  points.  A castle  in  Ireland  is  what 
Americans  would  call  a mansion,  only  it  is  built  with  greater 
strength  and  has  a tower  as  a fort.  Steps  to  the  u^^i^cr  jearts 
of  those  castles  are  always  circular,  and  in  towi  rs  constructed 
for  them.  Our  direct -ascending  stairs  were  little  known 
until  the  time  of  Elizabeth.  Hotels  furnish  splendid  accom- 
modations. Breakfast  about  eight  o’clock,  lunch  at  noon, 
and  dinner  about  7;00  r.  m.  Dinner  is  the  big  meal.  One’s 
plate  is  changed  at  the  table  from  five  to  nine  times,  ac- 
cording to  style,  as  are  also  knives,  forks,  etc.  Everybody 
is  polite.  It  is,  “If  you  please,  sir,”  “ Bog  your  pardon,  sir,” 
“Thank  you,  sir,”  and  many  other  like  courteous  and  euidio- 
nious  phrases.  The  heather,  growing  everywhere,  is  a shrub 
four  to  six  inches  high,  in  thickness  of  the  grass,  and  green 
and  leafed  like  delicate  cedar,  but  always  adorned  with  a 
small  red  flower.  The  finest  specimens  of  the  fuchsia  grow 


40 


THE  EMERALD  ISLE. 


here  almost  wild,  being  even  in  great  quantities  along  fences, 
and  as  hedges  aljout  country  hotels  and  at  railroad  stations. 
After  the  middle  of  August  I found  the  country  in  the  midst 
of  harvest.  Wheat,  barley,  and  oats  were  being  cut,  as  well 
a=  hay.  There  is  no  machinery,  not  even  a grain-cradle, — 
nothing  in  the  reaping-line  above  a sickle,  or  an  excuse  of 
a mowing-scythe,  both  of  which  are  used  in  the  harvesting 
of  grain.  The  people  work  as  if  they  were  too  lazy  to  gather 
the  grain  they  have.  Most  of  the  grain  is  about  the  .same  as 
in  America.  There  is  no  corn  raised  in  Ireland.  They  have 
the  most  splendid  roads.  One  can  tell  where  Irishmen  learn 
to  break  stone.  There  are  splendid  fisheries  in  the  bays  and 
lakes.  Everybody  in  Ireland  looks  at  you  in  a way  which 
says,  “A  penny,  if  ye  j)laize,  sir.”  The  favorite  thing  of  Ire- 
land seems  to  be  the  donkey-cart.  You  can  l)uy  a donkey  for 

a pound;  tliat  is. 
Jive  dolhirs.  Eve- 
rywhero  are  to  be 
seen  these  donkey- 
carts,  witli  an  old 
Avoman  or  a half 
dozen  s(|ualid  chil- 
dren riding  to  or 
from  town.  The 
cart  is  always  too 
big  for  the  donke\'. 
It  can  rain  at  any 
time  tliere,  and 
that,  too,  readily 
as  you  can  imag- 
ine. The  people 
seem  determined 
tooAvnland.  Since 
they  can  not  have 
it  as  real  estate 
they  hold  it  as  personal  property,  and  carry  it  about  on  their 
persons.  I saw  few  giave-yards  through  the  country.  Our 


MARY  FRANCES  CLARE. 


41 


driver  said,  “ They  all  drown  themselves,  sir.”  Great  forms 
of  men,  young  and  strong,  hang  around  to  tell  you  some  lie 
with  the  hope  of  getting  a penny.  You  are  expected  to  give 
a few  pence  or  a shilling  to  every  driver  or  waiter  or  steward. 
It  is  awful.  Everybody  expects  you  to  give  “something,  if  ye 
plaize,  sir.”  Every  castle  is  surrounded  by  a massive  stone 
wall,  and  at  its  entrance  is  a lodge,  where  some  poor  servants 
live.  There  are  only  a few  school-houses,  and  churches  are 
few  and  far  between. 

To  the  Lakes  of  Killarney,  over  the  continuous  mountains 
of  Kerry,  the  scenery  is  varied  and  delightful.  There  is  a 
fascination  and  charm  in  its  grandeur,  and  a mellowness  and 
depth  in  its  frequent  valleys  and  shades  which  feed  the  mind 
and  heart. 

Twenty  miles  from  the  Bay  of  Bantry  is  Kenmare,  where 
are  the  convent  and  schools  over  which  presides  the  world- 
famed  Sister  Mary  Frances  Clare,  the  Xun  of  Kenmare.  The 
buildings  and  grounds  are  tasteful,  and  the  school  is  an  object 
of  much  interest  in  this  ignorant  and  poor  region.  A large 
numl)er  of  poor  children  are  here  fed  and  educated.  Mush  is 
served  for  breakfast,  and  potatoes  or  bread  for  dinner.  IMost 
beautiful  lace-work  is  made  and  put  on  sale.  Our  company, 
having  a number  of  ladies  in  it.  left  the  institution  ten 
or  fifteen  pounds  for  kerchiefs  and  collars.  The  very  hand- 
some face  and  manners  of  Sister  Frances  and  her  associates 
will  ever  be  a bright  picture  to  associate  with  Kenmare. 

Twenty  miles  farther,  over  another  mountain,  and  down  by 
hoary-gray  walls,  overgrown  with  ivy  and  shaded  by  the  inde- 
scribable holly  and  hemlock  and  Arbor  Vitae  trees,  whose 
trunks  are  coveref],  with  moss  spreading  over  rocks  and  hills 
sprinkled  with  blooming  heather,  nestled  in  a frame-work  of 
hill-side  glory,  lie  the  beautiful  Lakes  of  Killarney.  Near  by 
is  a town  of  about  five  thousand  people,  noted  for  its  idleness 
and  dirt.  Sift  out  the  beggars  and  there  would  be  only  a 
few  hundred  remaining.  After  a wagon-ride  of  a few  hours 
from  the  town,  a horsebacl:  ride  of  about  five  miles  through 
the  gap  of  Dunloe  bring.3  the  rider  to  the  head  of  the  lakes. 


42 


THE  EMERALD  ISLE. 


This  gap  is  a wild  mountain  pass,  between  great  mountain 
peaks.  Its  winding  course  is  about  lakes,  buried  away  in 
those  lofty  heights,  above  great  chasms  and  beneath  lofty 
rocky  peaks.  These  projecting  rocks  are  covered  with  ivy, 
heather,  shrubs,  and  trees.  In  this  pass  is  Black  Lough,  from 
which  St.  Patrick  is  said  to  have  banished  the  last  snake  from 
Ireland.  Descending  from  the  passway,  there  rise  to  the  right 
the  Carrantual  Rocks,  the  highest  peaks  in  Ireland,  three 
thousand,  four  hundred  and  fourteen  feet  above  the  ocean. 
The  upper  lake  is  the  smallest  and  most  beautiful,  sur- 
rounded with  rocky  shores  and  dotted  with  beautiful  islands. 
Its  length  is  two  and  one  half  miles  and  its  breadth  three 
fourths  of  a mile.  The  middle  lake,  reached  from  the  other  by 
a long  channel,  is  nearly  twice  as  large  as  the  upper,  while  the 
loAver  lake  is  five  miles  long  and  three  miles  wide.  It  would 
make  a small  volume  to  write  the  legends  and  tales  a tourist 
hears  from  his  guides  and  boatmen.  On  the  west  of  the 
lower  lake  is  plainly  to  be  seen  the  pretty  cottage  of  the 
queen,  where  her  majesty  took  lunch,  just  twenty  years  ago, 
irpon  her  visit  here.  There  is  a marvelously  sweet  vibration 
of  sound  to  bo  heard  at  certain  paints  in  the  gap  of  Dunloe, 
and  at  different  i)oints  along  the  lakes.  Our  guide  provided 
the  com])any  with  one  of  the  rarest  entertainments  b}'  allow- 
ing them  to  alight  by  a lake  in  the  gap  while  he  withdrew  a 
few  paces  and  played  on  his  clarionet  the  “ Vale  of  Avoca.” 
Its  music  chimes  well  to  the  delightful  poem  of  Tliomas 
Moore,  which  will  be  remembered  by  the  reader: 

“ There  is  not  in  tlie  wide  world  a valley  so  sweet 
As  llie  vale  in  whose  bosom  the  bright  waters  meet.” 

As  the  sweet  strains  floated,  echoed,  and  vibrated,  ])laying  on 
their  invisible  strings  of  music  over  the  lakes,  I could  but 
think  of  the  swelling,  tender  cadences  of  song  whicli  shall  be 
when  the  ransomed  rejoice  above. 

In  tbe  lower  lake  is,  Innisfalleu  Island,  upon  which  are  the 
ruins  of  an  old  abbey.  It  is  believed  to  have  been  founded  in 
GOO  A.  D.,  by  St.  Finniau.  On  the  eastern  coast  of  the  lake 


LAKES  OF  KILLARNEY 


43 


is  Ross  Castle.  It  was  a structure  which  must  have  defied 
fearful  assault.  It  was  captured  and  put  in  ruins  about  16-52, 
by  Ludlow.  The  chapel  is  only  about  fifteen  by  twenty  feet, 
but  shows  well  the  style  of  architecture  of  a few  centuries 
ago.  The  most  interesting  place  to  visit  outside  of  the  won- 
derful creations  of  God  in  the  lake  and  the  mountain  passes 
in  these  regions  is  the  Muckross  Abbey,  founded  in  1440,  and 
repaired  in  1602.  These  ruins  are  a short  distance  from  the 
lake,  eastward,  and  consist  of  a chapel  and  abbey.  A dark 
court-yard  is  in  the  center,  around  which  on  all  sides  are  the 
cloisters,  like  a piazza,  arched  over  with  heavy  masonry. 
There  now  stands  a magnificent  yew-tree  in  tho  center  of  the 
court-j'ard,  said  to  be  four  hundred  years  old.  There  are  im- 
mense chambers  and  lialls,  all  built  in  the  most  quaint  man- 
ner. In  these  old  ruins  of  a once  splendid  abbey,  which  are 
so  eloquent  with  antiquity,  sleep  the  bodies  of  the  monks  de- 
posited in  their  honored  places,  surrounded  by  great  rocks 
which  have  defied  the  flames  of  two  destroying  fires,  and  the 
decaying  hand  of  more  than  six  hundred  years.  These  ruins 
are  the  most  splendid  and  best  preserved  I saw  in  Ireland. 
There  is  a solemn  and  awful  grandeur  about  such  a spot.  How 
one  is  reminded  of  the  superstition  and  false  religious  ideas 
in  monastery  life! 

The  Lakes  of  Killarney,  set  around  by  antique  ruins,  are 
the  most  beautiful  objects  of  nature  I have  ever  beheld.  Why 
they  should  be  found  in  the  midst  of  such  idleness,  poverty, 
and  eternal  beggary,  I can  not  conceive.  I can  most  heartily 
recommend  everything  here  to  the  tourist  except  the  beggars, 
and  also  the  hotel  which  no  doubt  did  the  best  it  could,  but 
whose  waiters  were  quite  too  slow  for  the  hungry  mouths 
of  Americans.  This  town  and  surrounding  country  are  all 
owned  by  one  man.  Lord  Kenmare.  Mr.  Herbert  owns  the 
old  Abbey  of  Muckro.ss. 

There  is  one  thing  which  always  causes  a ray  of  hope  to 
spring  up  in  the  tourist’s  heart,  and  that  is  the  prospect  of 
some  new  sjjecimen  of  Irish  wit  which  you  may  expect  to 
bubble  over  at  any  time.  One  of  our  company,  pointing  down 


44 


THE  EMERALD  ISLE. 


a valley,  one  day  asked  the  driver  how  far  down  the  possession 
of  a certain  landlord  extended?  “Twenty  miles,  sir,”  was  the 
reply.  “But  how  far  straight  down?”  was  the  further  inter- 
rogation. “ Down  to  hell,  sir.  He  has  liis  estate  arranged  for 
the  next  world,  sir.”  Landlords  are  not  much  loved  by  the 
Irish.  As  our  wagonette  was  driving  to  the  gap  of  Dunloe, 
our  driver  repeated  a homely  verse  as  follows : 

“ You  have  seen  Killaniey’s  beauteous  water, 

You  have  seen  Kate  Kearney’s  daughter’s  daughter; 

You  have  passed  the  Bull  and  Purple  too, 

And  tasted  of  the  mountain  dew.” 

Bull  and  Puri^lc  arc  tlie  names  of  two  mountain  peaks,  and 
one  of  the  descendants  of  a noble  woman,  Kearney,  lives  on 
the  road  to  the  gap,  while  “ mountain  dew”  is  the  familiar 
and  universal  name  there  for  whisky.  I .said  to  him,  “ Your 
stanza  is  mostly  good,  but  it  has  a bad  climax.”  Quick  as 
thought  came  the  answer,  “ Yes,  sir,  yer  honor,  there  is  great 
room  for  improvement  in  the  ‘mountain  dew,’  sir.” 

Southern  Ireland  is  among  the  most  blessed  and  most  cursed 
spots  on  earth.  Going  northward  by  rail  to  Dublin,  I found 
tlie  country  much  more  productive.  The  mo.st  interesting 
place  on  the  route  was  Kildare,  in  the  county  of  the  .same 
name,  thirty  miles  from  Dublin.  Here  the  convert  Bridget 
erected  the  nunnery  of  Kildare’s  fame,  in  which  it  is  asserted 
the  nuns  kept  up  tlie  “ unextinguishable  fire”  for  pilgrims, 
during  a thousand  year.s,  whicli  tlie  archbishop  of  Dublin, — 
H arry, — had  extinguished  in  1220.  After  being  rekindled, 
King  Henry  VIII.  again  put  it  out,  never  to  be  lighted  again. 


CHAPTEP.  IV. 


Dublin  — Parliament  House  — Dublin  University — Statue  of  Goldsmith 
— Tliomas  Moore  — Burke  — William  — Nelson  — Castle  — St.  Patrick ’.s 
Cathedral  — Swift  — Whately  — Phenix  Park  — Tomb  of  O’Connell  — 
Harvests  — Lough  Erne — Round  Towers — Romances. 


EBLIX  is  the  city  of  Ireland.  It  has  a population  of 
about  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand,  nearly  two 
^^"4^  hundred  thou.sand  of  whonx  are  Catholics.  It  has 
splendid  1 inen  and  silk  manufactories,  and  is  what 
^ Americans  Avould  call  a finished  city.  There  is  more  of 
Avealth  and  business  and  comparatively  le.ss  of  abject 
poverty  than  in  60Uthern  Ireland.  It  is  the  great  sea-port 
and  trading  town. 

The  old  Parliament  House  has  some  of  its  compartments 
just  as  Avhen  Ireland  wa.s  governed  as  a sejfarate  jfrovince 
with  its  own  parliament,  as  Ontario  is  now.  It  is  a large 
semi-circular  stone  structure,  Avith  a recess  in  the  front  on 
College  Green.  It  cost  about  five  hundred  thousand  dollars, 
and  Avas  completed  about  a hundred  years  ago.  It  is  now 
OAvned  and  used  bj’  the  Bank  of  Ireland,  except  the  room 
Avhere  the  House  of  Lords  used  to  meet.  That  room  is  kept 
as  Avhen  formerly  used,  except  that  a statue  of  King  George 
III.  sits  on  the  throne. 

Trinity  College,  commonly  knoAvn  as  the  L^niversity  of 
Dublin,  is  situated  at  the  head  of  the  street  called  College 
Green,  and  immediately  opposite  the  parliament  building. 
As  early  as  A.  D.  1311  authority  Avas  given  by  Pope  Clement 
V.  for  the  establishment  of  this  institution  of  learning.  The 
college  Avas  founded  under  his  successor.  Pope  John  XXII.,  by 
Bicknor.  Henry  VIII.  closed  it;  but  Queen  Elizabeth  again 

45 


46 


THE  EMERALD  ISLE. 


ordered  it  opened.  It  has  received  the  endowments  of  several 
kings,  as  Avell  as  those  of  private  persons  of  great  wealth. 
The  buildings  are  of  stone  and  in  the  Corinthian  st}de.  It 
has  a large  dining-hall,  library,  geological  museum,  lecture- 
rooms,  examination- rooms,  dormitories,  and  other  depart- 
ments. Here  is  the  field'  where  the  witty  and  sarcastic  Dean 
Swift,  the  benevolent  poet  Oliver  Goldsmith,  the  eloquent 
Burke,  and  the  poet  of  Ireland,  Thomas  Moore,  were  educated 
and  won  their  fair  fame.  The  college-grounds  embrace  proba- 
bly ten  acres.  There  ai'c  dormitories  for  about  two  hundred 
and  fifty  students  and  for  the  ])rofes.«ors,  who  number  about 
eighty,  besides  the  “grinders.”  It  has  an  average  attendance 
of  about  one  thousand  students.  The  library  is  a place  of 
much  interest,  and  contains  over  three  hundred  thousand 
volumes  — no  two  alike.  The  college,  like  Oxford  and  Cam- 
bridge, is  entitled  by  law  to  a copy  of  every  book  printed 
in  the  Cnited  Kingdom.  The  library-room  is  two  hundred 
and  seventy  feet  long.  Here  I saw  a copy  of  the  Coverdale 
Bible,  the  first  complete  English  Bible  printed.  This  volume 
is  worth  eight  thousand  dollars.  An  edition  of  Shakespeare 
i.s  here,  published  in  1664  — the  first  ever  issued.  There  are 
many  paintings  of  kings  and  queens,  one  of  the  most  .strik- 
ing of  which  is  a j^ainting  of  Elizabeth  in  the  examination- 
room.  In  front  of  the  college,  as  you  enter,  to  the  right, 
is  what  is  cherished  as  a splendid  work  of  art,  a statue  of 
Oliver  Goldsmith,  whose  literary  genius  made  him  immortal. 
To  the  left  is  a like  statue  of  Edmund  Burke.  A little  Avay 
up  College  Green  is  an  ecjuestrian  statue  of  William  of  Orange, 
who  defeated  King  .lames  II.  at  the  battle  of  the  Boyne.  It 
was  erected  in  1701.  Near  by  is  a statue  of  Thomas  Moore, 
who  was  born  in  Dublin,  May  28th,  1779,  and  who  entered  the 
college  in  1794,  and  who  died  February  26th,  1852.  Fartlier 
up  the  street  is  the  monument  to  Lord  Nelson,  who  won  the 
battle  of  Trafalgar,  and  whose  language  to  his  soldiery  is  so 
often  quoted  — “England  expects  every  man  to  do  his  duty 
to-day.”  This  monument  is  one  hundred  and  thirty  feet  high. 

The  Castle  of  Dublin  is  a place  of  interest,  showing  the 


PIIEXIX  PARK 


47 


style  of  royalty  in  life.  It  is  the  residence  of  the  lord-lieu- 
tenant, the  highest  officer  in  Irelaird.  The  curtains,  paint- 
ings, and  parlors  are  gorgeous  indeed.  The  chapel,  though 
plain  externally,  is  within  the  most  elaborately  carved  and 
beautiful  church  in  Ireland. 

There  are  a number  of  old  churches  and  cathedrals  which 
I found  marvels  of  interest,  and  so  filled  with  statues  and 
busts  that  I could  hardly  realize  that  I was  not  in  another 
world.  One  of  the  oldest  is  the  Cathedral  of  St.  Patrick, 
where  the  Danes  once  had  an  idol-temple.  Here  St.  Patrick 
erected  a place  of  worship  near  the  well  where  he  baptized  his 
first  converts  in  the  fifth  century.  The  present  building  was 
begun  in  1190,  by  Archbishop  Comyn,  and  improved  in  1370, 
after  a partial  burning.  The  church  is  a cruciform  structure; 
and  all  the  surroundings  are  made  gloomy  by  the  tablets 
and  tombs  of  the  dead.  Here  I stood  at  the  grave  of  Dean 
Swift,  the  witty  preacher,  whose  chequered  life  in  some  of 
its  love  affairs  is  a wild  romance.  Here  ahso  lies  the  dead 
dust  of  Archbishop  Whately,  the  learned  author,  some  of 
whose  writings  have  gone  into  all  countries  with  ministerial 
learning.  The  room  is  low  down  in  the  earth;  and  though 
with  immensely  high  ceilings  and  extended  transepts,  it  has 
nothing  inspiring  except  the  grandeur  and  elaboration  of 
sculpture,  carving,  and  art.  I attended  a Sabbath-morning 
service.  The  chanting  of  the  liturgy  occupied  just  one  hour 
and  a half,  and  the  beautiful  little  sermon  just  twenty  min- 
utes. The  building  was  recently  repaired  by  the  late  Sir  B. 
L.  Guinness,  at  a cost  of  over  two  hundred  thousand  pounds, 
or  one  million  dcjllars.  His  greatest  notoriety  is  his  immense 
distillery-business,  and  liberality  with  ill-gotten  gains. 

Phenix  Park,  celebrated  as  the  scene  of  the  murder  of 
Lord  Cavendish  and  Burke,  is  a vast  tract  of  land,  embracing 
one  thousand,  seven  hundred  and  fifty  acres.  The  constabu- 
lary, where  the  soldiers  of  the  queen  are  quartered,  is  here; 
and  it  also  contains  a zoological  garden.  Its  greatest  attrac- 
tion is  a splendid  equestrian  monument  of  the  Duke  of  Wel- 
lington, whose  fame  has  filled  the  world  as  the  conqueror  of 


48 


THE  EMERALD  ISLE. 


Napoleon  at  "Waterloo.  Yet  after  all,  the  park  is  greatly 
lacking  in  beauty,  being  largely  a great  pasture-field. 

There  are  a number  of  Presbyterian  and  Methodist  churches 
in  the  city.  The  Centenary  Methodist  Church  has  a prosper- 
ous college  connected  with  it. 

Dublin  was  the  home  of  the  eloquent  O'Connell,  known  as 
the  liberator  of  Ireland.  lie  now  sleejis  in  a vault  in  the 
cemetery,  under  a monument  of  great  height.  He  died  May 
loth,  1847,  at  Genoa,  on  his  way  to  Rome;  but  his  remains 
were  not  jfiaced  in  their  present  resting-place  until  1869, 
when  the  monument  was  comifieted.  The  metallic  casket  in 
Avhich  his  du.st  reposes  is  exposed  to  view  in  this  deep  vault; 
and  thousands  consider  it  a great  privilege  to  place  their  hand 
on  the  coffin  and  bless  the  memory  and  dfist  of  O’Connell. 

From  Dublin  northward  to  the  northern  coast  lies  the  best 
of  Ireland.  The  land  is  fertile  and  well  cultivated.  Barley, 
flax,  and  oats  are  abundant.  Everywhere  great  quantities  of 
flax  were  sjiread  in  the  fields,  and  the  barley  and  oats  are 
ready  to  harvest  soon  after  the  middle  of  August.  I saw  one 
reaper  at  work  in  a small  field  in  Ireland;  but  besides  that 
only  the  sickle  and  mowing-scythe  were  seen  in  harvesting. 
Men  and  women  were  at  work  in  about  equal  numbers  in  tlie 
fields.  I never  saw  an  old  man  out  digging  potatoes  without  a 
woman  helping  him.  The  women  must  be  good  wives  — very 
helpful  and  useful,  as  well  as  ornamental.  Four  hours’  travel 
from  Dublin  on  tbe  train  brings  the  traveler  to  Enniskillen, 
which  stands  on  an  island  in  the  connecting  waters  of  the 
Upper  and  Lower  Lough  Erne.  It  has  about  five  thousand 
people;  and  a physician  of  the  town  apologized  for  its  not 
getting  larger,  upon  the  ground  that  it  had  no  room  to  grow, 
as  it  had  covered  the  island. 

Lough  Erne  is  the  largest  fresh-water  lake  in  Ireland,  and 
is  a delightful  scene  to  take  in  by  a pleasant  boat-ride.  It  is 
varied  in  width  from  one  to  nine  miles,  while  its  length  is  not 
less  than  thirty.  It  is  dotted  over  with  islands,  large  and 
small,  some  cultivated,  and  others  covered  with  shrubs,  ivies, 
and  evergreens.  Its  shores  are  not  rugged  and  wild  as  those 
of  the  Lakes  of  Killarney;  but  the  slopes  rise  more  gently, 


ROMAXCES. 


49 


and  the  adjacent  hills  are  covered  with  fields  of  grass  and 
grain.  There  are  several  hundred  of  these  beautiful  islands, 
which  are  set  like  emeralds  upon  its  glossy  bosom.  Lough 
Erne  deserves  to  be  celebrated  in  poetry  and  in  song.  A more 
delightful  place  I did  not  see  in  Ireland. 

All  through  the  country  are  to  be  seen  the  ancient  round 
towers,  which  attract  attention.  One  of  the  first  I saw  was 
on  the  banks  of  Lough  Erne.  A number  of  others  lie  in  view 
on  the  way  to  the  North  Atlantic.  Of  course,  there  is  a 
history  to  every  one  of  them,  which  some  lad  will  detail  for 
two  pence,  or  which  a boatman  will  be  glad  enough  to  interest 
you  with  for  a half  hour  if  you  will  in  the  end  seem  pleased, 
and  give  him  sixpence.  This  is  indeed  a land  of  legends 
and  romance;  nor  is  it  to  be  wondei’ed  at.  It  is  the  land 
where  royalty,  religion,  and  superstition  have  fought  some  of 
their  greatest  and  most  memorable  battles.  But  as  to  the 
towers;  none  may  tell  their  uses  and  purposes  in  olden  time. 
They  are  built  of  square  stone,  are  from  six  to  twelve  feet  in 
diameter,  and  from  thirty  to  .seventy  feet  in  height.  They 
are  as  great  a mystery  as  the  mounds  and  mound-builders  of 
our  own  country.  Some  sui)pose  'dhey  were  built  centuries 
ago  for  astronomical  i^urposes;  .some  suppo.se  them  to  be  the 
work  of  heathen  architects,  built  in  honor  of  idols  and  for 
worship;  others  suppose  them  to  be  monuments  to  mighty 
chieftains  of  the  ancient  tribes,  wlio  have  been  buried,  j)os- 
sibly,  beneath  them.  A more  reasonable  view,  as  it  seems  to 
me,  is  that  they  were  designed  as  monuments  to  the  dead  of 
Christian  times,  and  were  erected  by  Christian  hands.  It  is 
probable  that  they  were  built  during  the  first  centuries  of 
the  Christian  era.  I have  seen  a half  dozen  of  them,  and 
most  of  these  stand  near  the  ruins  of  an  abbey. 

To  this  da}'  the  peasantry  of  the  country,  when  their  homes 
are  invaded  by  death,  bury  their  dead  loved  ones  under  the 
.somber  shadows  of  these  old  abbey-ruins;  and  here  the  un- 
marked graves  of  the  centuries  await  the  blast  of  the  trump 
of  God,  which  .shall  gather  the  scattered  dust  of  the  sleeping 
millions  to  the  judgment-scene.  “ Before  him  shall  be  gath- 
ered all  nations.”  ^ 


ClIAPTEK  V. 


Londonderry — Its  Siege — Jimies  II. — William  of  Orange  — Kev.  George 
Walker,  ronmiander — llis  Monument  — Battle  of  the  Boyne  — Port- 
rush — Dr.  Clarke’s  liirihplace — A 'I'rilmte — Giant’s  Cansewaj^ — Bel- 
fast— The  Irish  Problem  — Condition  of  the  People  — Ignorance  — 
Priestcraft — Landlordism  — No  Kncouragement  to  Labor — Peat  — 
Minerals — Parnell  and  the  Agitation. 

fX  tlie  renowned  Kiver  Poyle  is  situated  ihe  hi.storic 
• old  town  of  Londonderry,  whose  trials  and  <>'lory  shall 
never  fade  from  the  })ages  of  history.  It  is  a city 
and  county,  having  been  built  by  the  citizens  of  London 
during  the  reign  of  James  I.  It  now  has  about  thirty 
I thousand  inhabitants,  having  greatly  outgrown  its  walls, 
which  were  built  in  its  early  history,  and  which  embrace 
not  more  than  one  fourth  of  the  present  city.  These  walls 
are  in  a good  state  of  pre.servation.  A number  of  arches  are 
formed  so  as  to  allow  several  i)asses  in  and  out  of  the  walled 
])art.  On  Tuesday  morning,  August  23d,  in  company  with 
Dr.  Thompson,  I enjoyed  a walk  before  breakfast  around  the 
citv  on  these  illu.strious  walls.  There  is  no  place  in  Ireland 
where  I so  felt  the  pre.sence  and  power  of  history.  On  these 
old  walls  one  remembers  the  siege  of  Londonderry,  so  often 
referred  to  by  writers,  and  so  deeply  clu'onieled  in  the  jiages 
of  human  history.  The  thought  of  the  heroic  struggles  of 
the  Protestants,  who  here,  through  months  of  indescribable 
aiuruish  and  woe,  resi.sted  the  accursed  siege  of  an  ambitious 
Catholic  king,  rushed  through  me  with  th.e  vividness  of  a 
present  battle-scene.  King  James  II.  had  forsaken  the  Prot- 
estant faith  and  emlrraced  Catholicism;  yet,  ambitious  to 
rule,  he  held  on  to  the  throne  of  a Protestant  government. 


LL\:  GLORGE  WALKl'R. 


51 


Ilis  son-in-law,  'William  of  Orange,  called  'William  III.,  Avho 
had  married  his  oldest  daughter,  the  ■\veei)ing  hride  Mary, 
was  summoned  from  Holland  to  take  the  throne  of  England, 
which  had  been  declared  vacant  by  a majority  of  one  vote 
at  the  convention  of  Lords  and  Common.s,  James  II.  having 
fled  from  the  country.  The  Irish  throughout  the  island  had 
determined  to  make  an  on.slaught  upon  Protestant  London- 
derry and  massacre  all  its  inhabitants.  Two  companies  of 
the  Irish  were  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  Foyle,  when  only 
eight  or  nine  heroic  young  men  had  the  courage  to  close  the 
entrances  of  the  city  when  the  soldiers  were  within  sixty 
yards,  and  pressing  for  the  gates.  Helpless  women  and 
children  pleaded  and  prayed,  and  a handful  of  strong  men 
manned  the  guns,  and  fought  at  the  walls  and  gates  against 
the  thousands  of  armed  soldier}'  under  King  James.  II.  That 
which  is  so  peculiarly  interesting  in  the.se  historic  events  is 
the  fact  that  the  city  was  not  commanded  by  a trained  gen- 
eral, but  by  a clergyman.  Rev.  George  Walker,  who  encour- 
aged the  starving  men  and  women,  who  were  feeding  upon 
scraps  and  hides,  and  the  meat  of  dogs,  to  trust  in  God,  who 
surely  would  send  them  deliverance.  Although  almost  two 
hundred  years ' have  passed  since  that  heroic  struggle  within 
these  walls,  it  required  no  great  imagination  to  look  into  these 
old  houses  and  see  again  the  anguish  of  homes  where  children 
died  of  starvation,  and  to  look  upon  funeral  scenes  in  the  old 
plain  Gothic  cathedral,  in  which  women  .sorrowed  for  the 
dead,  who  had  perished  of  starvation,  but  nut  without  ho]je, 
assured  that  they  should  “hunger  no  more.”  In  the  old 
church  there  are  many  relics  of  the  siege,  such  as  battle-flags, 
etc.  That  which  brings  uj)  these  scenes  is  a monument, 
erected  over  fifty  years  ago,  consisting  of  a Doric  column, 
mors  than  a hundred  feet  in  height,  mounted  with  the  statue 
of  Rev.  George  Walker,  standing  on  the  walls  of  the  city  on 
the  hill.  A huge  cannon  stands  on  each  of  the  sides.  On 
the  monument  is  the  following  inscription : 

“ To  Rev.  George  Walker,  who,  aiJed  by  the  garrison  and  brave  inliab- 
itants  of  this  city,  most  gallantly  defended  through  a protracted  siege  — 


THE  EMERALD  ISLE. 


52 

namely,  from  December  (ith,  IGSS,  O.  8.,  to  August  12,  following,— against 
an  arbitrary  and  bigoted  monarch,  beading  an  armj'  of  upward  of  twenty 
thousand  men,  manj'  of  whom  were  for**ign  mercenaiies.  and  by  such 
valiant  conduct  in  numerous  sorties,  and  by  jjatieutly  enduring  extreme 
privation  and  sutfering,  successfully  resisted  the  besiegers,  and  preserved 
for  their  posterity  the  blessings  of  civil  and  religious  liberty.” 

It  i.s  a matter  of  regret  that  tins  stone  column  is  beginning 
to  shoAv  signs  of  decay.  The  memory  of  the  heroes  whose 
struggles  it  would  perpetuate  in  the  grateful  affections  of  the 
people  is  more  enduring  than  columns  of  brown  stone  or  stat- 
ues of  marble.  With  the  coming  of  William,  God  brought 
deliverance.  Less  than  a year  after  the  lifting  of  the  siege  of 
Londonderry,  William  met  King  James  II.  on  the  Boyne  with 
thirty  thousand  men,  and  defeated  him  on  July  1st,  1690. 
But  long,  long  ago  these  heroes  and  heroines  of  Londonderry 
have  been  at  rest. 

Northward  from  Londonderry  some  hours’  travel  is  Cole- 
raine and  Portrusli,  the  former  on  the  River  Bann  and  the 
latter  on  the  North  Atlantic.  Half  way  between  these  towns, 
and  jierhajis  three  miles  from  either,  a humble  cottage  in  the 
county,  is  the  birthplace  of  the  renowned  Dr  Adam  Clarke, 
who.se  ])ious  and  learned  writings,  especially  those  of  his  com- 
mentaries, have  blessed  so  many  ministers’  studies.  The  old 
home  is  still  standing,  though  occupied  by  strangers.  He  has 
a better  mansion.  Here  about  Portrusli  the  ignorant  and  dull 
boy  Clarke,  Avhose  teacher  said  he  could  never  learn  Latin, 
once  went  to  school ; and  here  among  these  green  hills  of  Ire- 
land he  first  felt  the  kindlings  of  a noble  manhood,  which 
when  developed  inspired  the  world.  I must  acknowledge 
how  powerful  and  salutary  were  his  writings  upon  my  young 
mind  and  heart  many  years  ago,  when  with  anxious  inquir- 
ies I turned  for  instruction  to  the  word  of  God,  whose  pages 
were  so  marvelously  sweet  and  dear,  yet  often  so  mysterious. 
The  Avriter  counts  it  a treasure  greater  than  landed  estates 
that  his  father  owned  and  studied  Clarke’s  commentaries. 
There  is  an  immortal  value,  and  power  for  good  or  for  evil 
in  the  first  books  Ave  read.  How  dear  they  are  to  us ! How 
tender  our  hearts  as  they  touch  the  scenes  Avhere  lived  and 


GIAXT’S  CAUSE  WAY. 


Oo 

toiled  their  illustrious  and  renowned  authors.  In  the  town 
of  Portrush  is  a very  appropriate  monument  to  the  memory 
of  Dr.  Clarke,  erected  a few  years  ago  by  Dr  Cother,  deceased, 
of  London. 

Eight  miles  on  a wagonette  from  Portrush  is  the  (Jiant’s 
Cau.seway,  where  Nature  puts  on  her  wildest  mood.  The 
peculiar  honey -combed  formations  of  basaltic  rock  have  fur- 
nished illustrations  for  the  book  of  geography  for  all  times 
past.  The  visitor  is  disappointed  at  first.  The  rocks  lack  the 
grandeur  and  sublimity  which  he  expects  to  meet.  The  rooks 
cover  probably  an  area  of  five  acres.  The  higher  columns 
are  about  thirty  feet  high.  The  whole  is  a body  of  rock.s, 
higher  and  lower,  completely  honey-combed;  or  rather  the 
rocks  are  shaped  in  the  forms  of  the  cells  of  a honey-comb, 
with  crevices  between  them  a quarter  of  an  inch  to  an 
inch  in  size.  The  size  of  these  columns  standing  side  by 
side  varie.s,  but  is  usually  about  one  foot  in  diameter.  They 
have  from  four  to  seven  sides,  and  the  face  of  one  is  concave 
and  that  of  another  convex.  They  rnn  back  to  the  base  of 
the  heights  of  the  adjoining  hills,  and  down  to  the  edge  of 
the  North  Atlantic,  and  how  far  out  under  the  waters  I do 
not  know.  The  tourist  walks  over  the  face  of  not  less  than 
forty  thousand  of  these  perpendicular  columns,  arranged  to- 
gether with  a beauty  of  design  which  suggests  the  skill  of  a 
great  Artificer.  The  Avhole  is  one  of  nature’s  greatest  won- 
ders. It  would  seem  that  at  some  remote  period  those  rocks 
were  solid,  and  by  some  process  of  drying,  or  by  the  action  of 
atmosphere  or  water,  they  were  thus  divided.  But  why  divided 
in  these  strange  forms,  and  with  a uniformity  found  nowhere 
else  on  the  globe,  no  scientist  or  learned  person  has  yet  told  us. 

The  city  of  Belfast  contains  about  two  hundred  thou-sand 
people,  two  thirds  of  whom  are  Protestants.  It  is  the  only 
live  town  in  Ireland,  and  the  only  town  that  is  growing.  Its 
streets  are  wide  and  clean,  and  its  business  houses  arc  like 
those  of  American  cities.  It  is  not  an  old  town,  but  is  splen- 
didly situated  on  the  River  Lagan,  with  a fine  port,  one  hun- 
dred and  thirty  miles  from  Glasgow  and  one  hundred  and 


54 


THE  EMERALD  ISLE. 


fifty-six  miles  from  Liverpool.  In  1G12,  BelList  as  a little 
village  was  given  by  James  I.  to  Sir  Arthur  Chichester,  the 
ancestor  of  the  i)rcsent  owner  of  the  city,  the  Marquis  of 
Donegal.  "Were  it  not  for  some  long  leases,  formerly  granted, 
the  annual  income  to  tlic  present  owner  from  this  city  alone 
would  be  three  hundred  thoinsand  pounds,  or  one  million  five 
hundred  thousand  dollars.  There  are  more  than  one  hundred 
])laces  of  worship,  thirty-four  of  which  are  Presbyterian,  nine- 
teen Methodist,  and  nineteen  Episcojml.  The  Presbyterians 
and  the  Methodists  have  splendid  institutions  of  learning. 
The  blood  of  the  Scotchman  commingles  largely  with  the 
Irish  in  the  veins  of  this  industrious  and  thrifty  people. 

I shall  close  this  chapter  and  the  first  part  of  this  volume 
with  a few  pages  upon  the  Irish  people  and  the  perplexing 
problem  which  will  remain  yet  unsolved  when  a score  of 
years  have  passed.  Tliis  is  indeed  a question  which  most 
deeply  interests  the  entire  civilized  world. 

Ireland  is  a land  of  verdure,  flowers,  and  donkey-carts;  a 
land  of  ragged,  hearty,  and  dirty  children;  a land  of  land- 
lords, poverty,  wealth,  potatoes,  and  beggars;  a land  of  anti- 
equated  walls  and  shades,  and  a land  of  castles  and  huts.  The 
peoqole  of  Ireland  are  half  freemen  and  half  slaves.  They  are 
partially  ruled  by  the  English  crown, — one  of  the  noblest 
governments  under  heaven, — and  largely  by  the  dominion  of 
landlords,  who  own  their  qrresent  possessions  b}'  acts  of  confis- 
cation in  former  times.  The  peasantry  of  a large  part  of 
Ireland  are  the  lui]q)iest  people  on  God’s  green  earth.  They 
have  nothing,  really  seem  to  want  nothing,  and  are  too  lazy 
to  try  to  get  anything.  They  are  given  to  legends,  whisky, 
dirt,  and  Catholicism.  They  are  in  the  bondage  of  poverty, 
filth,  landlords,  and  ignorance;  and,  worse  than  all,  they  are 
under  the  tyranny  of  a drunken,  lazy,  and  intolerant  qrriest- 
hood. 

In  northern  Ireland,  Avhere  Protestantism  has  a jDrevailing 
influence  and  power,  there  is  thrift;  and  many  homes  in  the 
rural  parts  somewhat  resemble  those  of  America.  But  even 
hero  there  is  much  qioverty.  I dare  not,  indeed  I can  not, 


COM)JTIOX  OF  TIIK  PEOPLE. 


65 

give  the  reader  a true  ])icture  of  the  condition  of  the  peo]de 
in  all  the  great  southern  portion  of  this  country.  The  whole 
land  is  inhahited  l>y  the  poore.st  of  the  poor.  The  people  live 
in  small  huts,  which  have  no  compartments,  and  arc  without 
lloors,  except  what  nature  gave.  There  are  few  articles  of 
furniture;  and  these  could  only  be  called  sucli  for  want  of  a 
name  to  describe  tliem.  The  houses  are  built  of  stone,  and 
covered  Avith  slate,  straw,  or  tiling.  In  the  one  room  of  the 
house  they  all  live  together.  Besides  this,  chickens,  pigs, 
goats,  and  cows  are  quartered  in  the  same  room.  Through 
the  middle  of  tlie  room  they  dig  a trench  ; on  the  one  side  are 
the  quarters  of  the  family,  and  on  the  otlier  are  those  of  the 
goat,  the  cow,  and  the  donkey.  If  by  chance,  as  is  sometimes 
the  case,  there  he  a separate  building  on  the  j^i’emises  for  a 
stable,  it  Ss  immediately  in  front  of  the  dwelling,  at  a dis- 
tance of  ten  or  fifteen  feet  away.  In  forty-nine  cases  out  of 
fifty  there  is  a large  compost  j)ile  within  five  feet  of  the  door 
of  the  house.  It  is  impo.s.sihle  to  picture  the  ragged,  dirty 
beings  who  inhabit  these  horrid  places.  Yet  such  is  southern 
Ireland.  Xor  is  a large  portion  of  the  towns  much  better 
than  Avhat  has  been  described.  The  ])eople,  however,  seem 
hearty,  and  the  cheeks  of  the  children,  through  the  dirt,  show 
signs  of  good  health. 

Besides  this,  the  people  are  largely  given  to  drinking.  I 
did  not  see  many  persons  beastl}'  or  dead  drunk  ; but  it  really 
seems  that  all  the  people,  men  and  Avomen,  are  drunken.  In 
some  of  the  towns  almost  everybody,  high  and  low,  old  and 
young,  male  and  female,  Avere  half  intoxicated.  Their  high- 
est ambition  is  to  have  some  of  the  “ crathur.”  They  are 
cursed  Avith  a religion  Avhich  to  them  is  practically  a su- 
perstition, and  nothing  more.  There  is  nothing  elevating 
or  ennobling  in  it  to  them.  It  checks  them  in  no  vice  and 
encourages  them  in  no  virtue,  except  as  it  does  so  through 
superstitious  beliefs.  Catholicism  and  the  priestcraft  Avish  to 
keep  the  peojAle  in  ignorance.  They  can  control  them  only 
by  .so  doing.  Let  enlightenment  come  and  the  poAver  of  the 
priest  is  broken. 


THE  EMEUALD  JSLE. 


oG 


The  people  are  cursed  with  church-holidays.  These  inter- 
fere with  their  labor,  and  arc  occasions  for  drunkenness. 

Then,  added  to  this,  there  is  the  landlordism  of  Ireland, 
which  must  forever  be  its  baneful  curse  as  long  as  it  con- 
tinues. English  and  Irish  landlords  own  the  country.  The 
poor  peasantry,  ajiparentiy  enfeebled  by  years  of  poverty  and 
pleasure,  seem  to  have  been  contented  for  it  to  be  so  until 
I'iOw.  If  the  lands  were  taken  from  these  landlords  and  dis- 
tributed among  the  pea.«ants,  with  their  i)rcsent  character, 
religion,  and  habits,  they  would  luirdly  have  a morsel  of  them 
in  five  years.  What  improvement  miglit  be  wrought  among 
them  I may  not  conjecture.  The  land  is  rented  to  the  people 
at  prices  as  great  as  or  greater  than  the  purchase-price  of  like 
lands  in  the  United  States.  Let  a man  toil  ever  so  hard,  and 
suffer  ever  so  bravely,  there  is  no  hope  of  a slielter  for  his 
family  when  he  is  dead.  Every  year  thousands  and  millions 
of  dollars  are  carried  over  to  England  to  enrich  the  coffers  of 
the  land-owners.  Even  an  Irish  landlord  can  liardly  be  said 
to  live  in  Ireland.  If  he  builds  a castle  he  purchases  the 
matcvi.il  (save  the  stone)  in  England,  and  hires  his  mechanics 
and  artists  in  London  or  Paris.  He  does  not  spend  liis  monev 
in  Ireland;  he  buys  in  England  or  Scotland,  and  lives  in  one 
of  these  countries  much  of  his  time.  There  is  no  money 
spent  by  him  in  Ireland  for  anything.  Xo  buildings  are 
being  erected.  Ireland  is  every  year  fleeced  as  a farmer  clips 
the  Avool  from  his  flocks;  but  it  is  never  fed.  Of  cour.se,  I do 
not  assert  that  these  dukes  and  landlords  are  all  bad  men. 
Some  of  Oiem  are  men  of  eminent  learning  and  gentilitA’. 
But  the  system  of  landlording  must,  in  its  princijAles  of  gov- 
ernment, alAA'ays  be  a detriment  to  the  country.  There  must 
be  something  Avhich  Avill  induce  the  OAvners  of  estates  to  im- 
prove them,  and  give  the  best  conditions  of  life  to  the  inhab- 
itants of  a country,  if  there  is  to  be  prosperity.  The  laAvs  of 
the  land  must  be  such  as  to  encourage  the  people  living  on 
the  soil  to  OAvn  the  ground,  as  it  is  tlieir  God-giA'en  right  to 
do,  if  the  higher  prosperity  is  to  be  realized.  Any  country 
that  is  made  merely  the  market-place  of  another,  as  Ireland 


PARXELL  AXD  THE  AGITATION. 


57 


is  of  England,  must  become  poorer  and  poorer  as  the  j'ears  go 
by.  There  is  money  enough  going  out  of  Ireland,  for  rents  to 
owners  abroad,  to  buy  in  a short  time  the  lands  of  tlie  country 
and  give  them  to  the  peasants  as  homesteads.  IIow  tlie  peo- 
jdc  are  to  be  elevated  from  their  present  low  state  and  lifted 
out  of  their  poverty  and  superstition,  is  tlie  saddest  conun- 
drum of  the  age. 

The  feeling  against  the  landlords  among  the  pea.saucry  is 
bitter.  The  agitation  led  by  IMr.  Parnell  and  others,  and  or- 
ganized in  the  Land -League,  tends  to  increase  this.  The 
league  receives  and  expends  in  Ireland  not  less  than  twenty- 
five  thousand  dollars  per  month.  The  most  of  this  is  con- 
tributed by  foreign  countries,  only  one  and  a half  per  cent 
being  raised,  in  Ireland.  This  money  is  used  to  carry  on  the 
agitation,  and  to  furnish  temporary  homes  for  families  evicted 
from  their  tenantries  by  landlords  because  of  their  failure  to 
pay  the  rents.  Much  of  this  work  is  highly  humane.  Yet 
the  same  thing  has  practicall}'  encouraged  revolt  and  boycot- 
ting,— that  is,  preventing  any  person  from  going  on  a farm 
from  which  one  has  been  evicted, — and  has  in  many  cases 
led  to  the  cruel  murder  of  landlords.  The  league  is  not  in 
itself  a secret  society ; yet  it  is  shrewdly  suspected  that  there 
is  within  it  a secret  society  which  has  communication  with 
the  Fenian.s.  The  population  of  Ireland  is  yearly  decreasing 
and  its  wealth  dci^leting.  Its  people  are  now,  in  a large  dis- 
trict of  country,  living  from  the  patronage  of  English  and 
American  travelers. 

Much  of  Ireland  is  really  poor  soil,  though  a delicious  cli- 
mate prevails.  There  are  few  minerals.  Peat,  or  turf,  is  sub- 
stituted for  coal.  This  is  a vegetable  compound,  found  in 
great  quantities  in  the  low-lands,  and  even  in  the  marshes  of 
the  •mountains,  and  is  cut  out  in  blocks  or  squares  the  size 
of  a brick,  and,  when  dried,  burns  very  well. 

With  all  this,  there  is  a generosity,  a blithesomeness,  a 
virtue  both  in  men  and  women,  a wit,  and  a politeness  about 
these  people  which  can  never  be  forgotten.  There  is  a beauty 
in  their  country  which  causes  one  to  love  the  God  of  nature 


58 


THE  EMERALD  ISLE. 


more.  May  he  give  this  “Emerald  Isle”  a better  day.  May 
Protestant  Christianity  and  freedom  cover  the  land,  and  its 
people  eat  of  the  fruit  of  the  soil.  May  the  dominion  of  the 
pope  and  priest  cease  among  them  forever. 

“ Thus  shall  memory  often,  in  dreams  sublime, 

Catch  a glimpse  of  the  days  that  are  over; 

Thus  singing,  look  through  the  waves  of  time 
For  the  long-faded  glories  they  cover.” 


HUSH  UONKBV 


PART  SECOND. 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


CHAPTER  I. 


Scotland  — Size  — Climate  — Xortli  Clianncl — Greenock  — Grave  of  “High- 
land Mary  ” — Glasgow  — Population  — Statues  — Residences  — First 
Steamer,  the  “Comet,”  — The  Clyde — Cathedral  — Visit  to  Ayr  — 
Burns’  Character,  Writings,  Home,  and  Relatives. 

O laud  is  more  romantic  or  more  celebrated  in  history 
ll  and  song  than  Scotland,  the  northern  and  smallest 
division  of  the  island  of  Great  Britain.  It  is  pict- 
uresque in  landscaj^es,  rugged  in  its  higldand  mount- 
ains, rich  in  mineral  resources,  sturdy  in  j)opulation, 
cnteiqjrising  in  manufactories  and  eommeree.  Lying 
near  to  England  and  more  nearly  allied  to  tlu'  government, 
it  jxjssesseS  great  advantages  over  many  otlier  parts  of  the 
royal  queen’s  dominions.  Scotland  is  only  about  two  hun- 
dred and  eighty-seven  miles  long,  and  its  greatest  width  not 
more  than  two  hundred  and  sc'venteen  miles.  It  is  so  pene- 
trated and  channeled  by  arms  of  the  sea  tliat  tlie  farthest 
points  from  the  shore  are  less  than  forty  miles,  exeej)t  in  one 
spot.  Of  the  nineteen  million  acres  of  land,  less  than  one 
third  is  arable.  The  land  is  famous  for  its  beauty  of  lakes 
and  rugged  mountains.  At  the  close  of  August  the  harvest 
■was  not  yet  ripe;  and  fii-e  in  the  room  was  needed  to  keep  an 
American  warm. 

When  the  weather  is  fine  and  the  sea  calm  it  is  a splendid 
passage  one  makes  from  Belfast  on  the  eastern  coast  of  Ireland 

f)9 


GO 


SroTLAXD  AXn  EXGLAXD. 


to  Greenock  on  the  western  coast  of  Scotland.  Your  steamer 
seems  for  hours  to  creep  along  the  coast  of  Ireland,  and  then 
boldly  strides  across  North  Channel  to  the  mouth  of  the  River 
Clyde.  If  the  channel  is  rough  there  is  much  danger  of  sea- 
sickne.ss;  but  otherwi.se  the  trip  is  romantic.  Of  course  the 
Clyde,  up  which  you  sail  .so  proudly  between  the  grand  old 
hills  of  Scotland,  at  w'hose  base  great  towns  and  cities  nestle, 
is  in  reality  an  arm  of  the  sea,  and  its  waters  salt  as  those  of 
tlie  ocean.  Greenock  is  a fine  business  city,  but  noted  most  on 
account  of  its  vast  ship-building.  Burns’ “ Highland  Mar}’,” 
to  whom  he  ])aid  his  sweetest  verse,  is  buried  here.  M’hat  a 
fascination  and  charm  the  genius  of  poetry  throws  around  a 
hnmlde  Scottish  peasant-girl. 

An  hour  on  the  train  from  Greenock  brings  the  traveler  to 
Glasgow,  which  in  the  most  modern  sense  is  a business  place, 
with  a population  of  nearly  eight  hundred  thousand  people. 
It  has  much  of  industrial  and  social  intere.st  — indeed,  vastly 
more  than  any  cil}’  in  Scotland,  though  less  of  the  historic. 
It  is  the  third  city  in  the  United  Kingdom,  and  has  immense 
manufactories  of  almost  every  kind.  Chief  among  these  are 
the  navy-yards,  wliere  are  made  tlie  ships  which  go  down  into 
the  great  seas. 

The  residences  of  the  city  are  in  man}'  portions  very  splen- 
did indeed.  Vast  terraces  and  crescents  of  dwellings,  most 
tastefully  fronted  with  parks  and  lawns,  meet  tlie  eye  of  the 
visitor.  George's  Square,  in  the  central  part  of  the  city,  has 
an  excellent  eipiestrian  statue  of  her  majesty  (^ueen  Victoria, 
also  statues  of  Walter  Scott,  Campbell,  Sir  .John  Moore,  Lord 
Clyde,  and  others,  including  a bronze  figure  of  James  Watt, 
who  began  his  experiments  with  steam  in  1763,  and  by  whose 
faithful  study  and  genius,  combined  with  those  of  Mr.  Henry 
Bell,  tlie  first  .steamer  ever  launched  in  Europe  was  set  afloat 
in  the  River  Clyde  in  1812.  It  was  called  the  “Comet,”  and 
had  an  engine  of  three-horse  power.  It  began  its  career,  Jan- 
uary 18th,  1812,  and  plied  between  Greenock  and  Glasgow. 

There  are  a number  of  institutions  of  learning  at  Glasgow, 
of  great  prominence,  the  principal  being  the  New  University 


Gl.ASUOW. 


61 


of  Scotliind,  the  coruer-Ktoue  of  whieh  was  laid  by  the  Prince 
of  Wales,  October,  1868.  The  immensity  of  the  structure  must 
be  imagined  from  the  statement  that  the  floor  covers  about 
six  acres.  It  bas  ninety-eight  departments  of  in.struction,  and 
each  chair  its  recitation-room  and  retiring-room.  The  uni- 
versity has  been  in  operation  about  eleven  years.  It  is  indeed 
a magnificent  institution.  The  city  has  about  seventy-five 
churches  belonging  to  the  estal)lishcd  church  of  Scotland,  and 
about  the  same  number  owned  by  the  Free  Church  of  Scot- 
land, and  two  thirds  as  many,  at  least,  belonging  to  the 
United  Presbyterian,  a dozen  to  the  Episcopal  Church,  and 
about  the  same  to  the  Catholics,  with  Cougregationalist.s, 
Baptists,  and  Methodists  eacli  from  ten  to  twenty  churches, 
while  nearly  fifty  houses  of  worship)  belong  to  minor  bodies. 

Historically,  the  most  interesting  structure  in  Glasgow  is 
the  cathedral.  It  is  a massive,  gloomy  building,  over  three 
hundred  feet  long,  with  eight  transepts,  which  have  never 
been  completed.  The  cathedral  was  founded  under  David  1., 
in  1133,  upon  the  same  site  occupied  by  the  structure  built  by 
St.  Mungo,  five  hundred  years  earlier.  For  four  hundred 
years  it  was  the  place  where  Catholics  worshijied;  and  many 
are  the  prelates  and  men  of  renown  whoso  ashes  lie  under  its 
stone  floors.  Upon  the  restoration  of  the  episcojjacy  it  became 
the  heritage  of  the  Episcopal  Church.  But  when  the  Presby- 
terian Church  became  established  in  Scotland  its  ministers 
entered  the  old  pulj3it.  It  is  owned  by  the  crown  of  En- 
gland, and  is  supported  by  the  government.  Its  choir  or 
chancel  has'  sittings  only  for  about  five  hundred  pensons.  It 
is  more  for  the  dead  than  for  the  living.  The  walls  are  filled 
with  memory  tablets;  and  some  of  the  relics  of  the  old  build- 
ing, erected  in  the  fifth  century,  are  in  the  chapter-room.  On 
an  eminence  just  a little  way  from  the  cathedral  is  the  ne- 
cropolis of  Gla.sgow,  where  sleep  its  dead.  Many  monuments 
are  planted  upon  this  hill,  the  most  conspicuous  of  which  is 
a colossal  statue  of  John  Knox,  the  Scotch  reformer. 

The  city  of  Glasgow  is  supjjlied  with  splendid  water  brought 
from  Lake  Katrine,  which  has  a deep  literary  halo  about  it 


62 


SCOTLAXD  AXD  EXGLAXD. 


from  the  writings  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  who  has  done  so  much 
for  the  poetry  and  delight  of  his  native  land. 

On  Thursday  morning,  August  25th,  eight  of  our  company 
took  train  for  Ayr,  forty  miles  south-west  of  Glasgow,  the 
town  and  shire  made  immortal  in  fame  by  having  been  the 
home  of  the  greatest  of  the  Scottish  poets,  Robert  Burns. 

Burns  was  not  in  evety  way  the  greatest  poet  of  Scotland; 
yet  he  put  Scotland  and  its  life,  its  customs,  its  heart,  its  fol- 
lies and  its  vices,  its  love  and  its  beauties,  and  its  shame  as 
well,  into  poetry  and  song  as  no  man  ever  has  done.  He  was 
the  poet  of  the  people.  He  is  the  only  poet  who  came  uji  from 
such  unlearned  paths  to  be  — though  allowed  to  languish  in 
poverty  and  shame  during  his  life  — the  admiration  of  the 
most  learned  and  gifted  men  of  the  world.  He  put  wisdom 
into  a marvelous  nut-shell  — for  he  burned  with  indignant 
fire  — when  he  wrote  — 

“ The  rank  is  but  the  guinea’s  stamp, 

A man’s  the  gowd  for  a’  that.” 

The  poems  of  Burns  breathe  the  sighs,  the  love,  the  passions 
of  the  himiau  heart  all  the  world  over  as  none  other  have 
ever  dor.e.  Christian  people  are  too  well  acquainted  tvith  the 
life  he  at  times  led.  They  know  too  well  how  evil  associa- 
tions and  evil  passions  often  controlled  him.  The  world 
has  in  the  main  been  quite  charitable  enough  in  its  treat- 
ment of  the  character  and  life  of  Burns;  and  yet  it  knows 
well  enough  the  need  of  charity,  which  in  this  case  has  cov- 
ered a multitude  of  sins.  The  lack  of  early  Christian  influ- 
ences and  training,  and  the  later  influence  of  the  gatherings 
of  the  Masonic  lodge  and  otlier  clubs  and  fellowships  are 
the  causes  which  led  a great  genius  to  such  paths  as  virtuous 
and  sober  mortals  shun.  Yet  Burns  had  a heart  broad  and 
deep.  In  his  hand  he  held  the  harp  which  wakes  often  tire 
tenderest  and  noblest  feelings  of  the  heart  of  humanity.  Al- 
beit not  all  his  verse  is  worthy;  for  often  when  he  would 
reach  the  depths  of  the  human  heart  he  stirs  the  devil  up 
and  puts  him  at  business.  Your  mother  may  have  sometimes 


ROBERT  BURNS. 


63 


been  bad  in  temper  and. sometimes  harsh  in  Avords  and  re- 
proof, but  the  good  so  far  outweighs  the  evil  that  the  evil  is 
forgotten.  You  deem  it  a pleasure  and  a dpty  to  cover  up  the 
bad  and  immortalize  the  good.  And  thus  it  is  tliat  a human 
heart  owes  something  to  genius,  and  loves  to  honor  God 
and  pay  it.  A few  miles  from  Ayr,  a city  with  over  forty 
thousand  inhabitants,  stands  by  the  road-side  the  humble 
cottage  in  Avhich,  on  the  25th  of  January,  1750,  Robert 
Burns,  tl;e  familiar  poet  of  Ayrshire,  was  born.  The  clay  and 
stone  floor,  the  11  re-place  and  the  oven,  are  as  a hundred  or 
more  years  ago.  The  humble,  .short  bed  still  stands  in  the 
niche  in  the  wall  where  the  poet  first  lay  on  the  bosom  of 
maternal  love.  The  table  of  Burns,  the  clock,  and  other  relics 
of  the  family  are  to  be  seen.  Here  also  maj'  be  seen  copies 
of  his  poem  “Tam  O’Shanter,”  in  his  own  handwriting.  The 
house  is  indeed  a humble  one,  with  low  ceiling  and  roof  of 
straw..  On  an  eminence  to  the  left  of  the  road,  going  from 
the  old  home  of  Burns  toward  the  “ Bonn}'  Boon,”  stands  a 
splendid  monument  to  Burns,  erected  over  sixty  years  ago. 
In  its  chamber  below  are  also  many  interesting  relics,  among 
which  is  the  identical  Bible  given  by  young  Burns  to  his 
“ Highland  Mary,”  the  parting  from  whom  he  has  so  touch- 
ingly put  in  verse,  and  to  whose  departed  memory  he  gives  his 
SAveetest  and  choicest  poem.  There  is  also  here  a marble  bust 
and  a splendid  oil-painting  of  the  poet,  Avith  other  paintings. 
The  road  has  evidently  been  changed;  but  its  old  course  is 
easily  traced,  along  Avhich 

“ Tam  skelpit  on  through  dub  .and  mire, 

Despising  wind  and  rain  and  fire.” 

“Kirk  AlloAvaA',”  “ Whare  ghaists  and  houlets  nightly  cry,” 
is  yet  standing,  though  the  roof  is  entirely  gone.  The  Avails, 
erected  in  1516,  are  yet  strong;  and  the  little  bell  hangs  in 
the  stone  frame,  though  it  has  long  cea.sed  to  be  used.  Around 
the  Kirk  AlloAvay  lie  many  of  the  dead  of  the  past  century, 
among  whom  in  front  of  the  kirk  are  the  father  and  mother 
and  sister  of  Burns.  Beyond  the  kirk  nearly  tAVO  hundred 


Gl 


S('OrLAXI)  AND  ENGLAND. 


yards  is  the  old  bridge  where  Tam  O’Shanter  crossed  the 
Doou  as  he  fled  from  the  witches  at  the  kirk,  and  where 

“ The  Carlin  ciauglit  her  by  the  rump, 

And  left  poor  Maggie  scarce  a stump.” 

• Across  the  River  Ayr,  in  the  city,  are  to  be  seen  “The  Brigs 
of  Ayr,”  which  in  one  of  Burns’  host  ^loems  are  made  to  speak 
so  Avittily  and  tvisely. 

Burns  tvrote  poetry  founded  on  realities.  He  took  nature 
and  painted  its  likeness.  lie  made  the  hills  which  smile  so 
sweetly,  and  these  houses  and  kirks  and  brigs,  and  the  Boon, 
to  sjAeak  tvith  language  which  has  immortalized  the  poet  and 
the  scenes  of  his  life;  and  as  he  wrote  of  the  departed  “High- 
land Hary,” 

“ still  o’er  these  scenes  my  mem’ry  Avakes, 

And  fondly  broods  with  miser  care; 

Time  but  the  impression  stronger  makes, 

As  streams  their  channels  deejjer  wear.” 

In  “auld  Ayr,  wham  ne’er  a town  surpasses,”  is  yet,  as  in 
the  time  of  “Tam  O’Shanter”  and  “ Souter  Johnny,”  the  inn 
Avhere  “ they  had  been  fou’  tvecks  thegither,”  and  tvhere  still 
the  landlord  and  the  modern  “ Tams  ” grow  “ gracious.”  I was 
inquisitively  foolish  enough  to  go  in  and  examine  the  rooms, 
but  did  not  remain  long.  The  country  about  the  early  home  t 
of  Burns  is  delightful,  and  such  as  tvould  inspire  a poet.  Yet 
it  is  a mystery  that  one  born  and  reared  so  humbly  should 
so  strike  the  harp  of  ages.  But  it  is  as  he  said,  “ The  Poet 
Genius  of  my  country  found  me,  as  the  projAietic  bard,  Elijah, 
did  Elisha, — at  the  ploAV, — and  threw  her  inspiring  mantle 
over  me.  She  bade  mo  sing  the  loves,  the  joys,  the  rural 
pleasures  of  my  native  soil,  in  my  native  tongue;  I tuned 
my  Avild,  artless  notes  as  she  inspired.”  Tavo  maiden  nieces 
of  Burns,  Agnes  and  Isabella  Begg,  daughters  of  his  younger 
sister,  live  in  the  neighborhood,  and  are,  so  far  as  I know,  bis 
nearest  relatives  living.  They  are  pleasing  and  entertain- 
ing old  ladies,  having  reached  the  time  usually  allotted  to 
human  life.  They  Avere  glad  to  Avelcome  Americans  to  their 


ROBERT  BURNS. 


65 


I'ozA’  home  for  a season ; and  one  of  them  replied  to  some 
words  of  ours,  “ Nowhere  is  Burns  more  loved  than  in  Amer- 
ica.'’ They  are  spoken  of  as  very  benevolent  and  kind  to  the 
j)Oor.  Burns  has  loft  a fascination  and  charm  about  Ayr  and 
along  tlie  banks  of  the  “ Bonny  Boon.”  Alas!  how  depraved 
a genius  can  be.  I only  wisli  that  what  Burns  wrote  in  his 
“Address  to  the  Devil  ” may  have  been  true  : 

“ And  now,  Auld  Cloots,  I ken  ye’re  thinkin’, 
certain  bardie’.s  rantin’,  drinkin’, 

Some  luckless  hour  will  send  him  linkin’ 

To  your  black  pit; 

But,  faith!  he’ll  turn  a corner  jinkin, 

And  cheat  you  yet.” 


BIRTHPLACE  OF  ROBERT  BTJRNS.-See  page  63. 

“ But  pleasures  are  like  poppies  spread. 

You  seize  the  flower,  its  bloom  is  shed ; 

Or  like  the  snow-fall  in  the  river, 

A moment  white  — then  melts  lorever; 

Or  like  the  borealis  race. 

That  flits  e’re  you  can  point  the  place; 

Or  like  the  rainbow’s  lovely  form, 

Evanishing  amid  the  storm.” 

Robert  Burns  died  at  Dumfries,  Scotland,  July  21,  1796. 


CHAPTER  II. 


Higlilaiuls  of  Scotland  — Lake  Katrine— Sterling — Tlie  Castle— Bannock- 
burn Battle-tield  — Robert  tbe  Bruce  — Knox’s  Old  Pulpit — Murder 
of  I'liirl  of  Douglas — Virgin  Martyrs  — The  Cathedral  — Guild  Hall 
— Iturvitig  tlie  Dead  — Scottisli  Cliaracter  — Wit. 


HE  Higbltimls  of  Scotliind  have  Iteen  made  illustrious 
and  immortal  in  poetry,  history,  and  romance.  I had 
longed  to  look  upon  these  inspiring  and  beauty- 
decked  mountains  and  lakes.  Did  they  make  Wtilter 
Scott,  or  was  it  his  genius  which  threw  over  them  tlieir 
immortal  charm?  One  day  took  our  company  over  Loch 
Lomond,  the  pride  of  Scotland,  girt  about  with  rugged  mount- 
ains covered  with  heather  and  evergreen.  The  highest  jieak 
about  the  lake  rises  over  three  thousand  feet  high,  at  the 
craggy  base  of  which  is  the  prison  of  Rob  Roy.  All  about  us 
were 

“ Those  emerald  isles  which  calmly  sleep, 

On  the  blue  bosom  of  the  deep.” 


From  Inversnaid  the  journey  was  made  over  lofty  mount- 
ain-heights in  a huge  wagon,  clratvn  by  four  great  Scotch 
horses.  The  scenery  in  these  highlands  is  romantic  and  pict- 
uresque beyond  description.  Ear  off  to  the  right  and  left 
were  vast  flocks  of  sheep,  which  range  over  the  immense 
pasturage;  here  and  there  a humble  but  lU'at  cottttge.  The 
cascades,  amid  depths  and  heights  covered  with  ferns  and 
heather,  present  a pictu’"e  for  the  artist  or  the  poet.  Six  miles 
over  these  heights  and  you  are  at  the  head  of  Lake  Katrine, 
the  scene  of  the  “ Lady  of  the  Lake,”  by  Walter  Scott.  I had 
not  knowm  that  this  time-worn  and  Avorld-honored  poem  so 

minutely  describes  the  hills,  shores,  and  island  of  Katrine. 

66 


ROBERT  THE  BRUCE. 


^ ( 

The  mountains  are  a little  steep  for  Scott’s  stranger  to  ride 
down ; but  the  poet’s  imagination  must  have  reasonable  play- 
and  then  the  story  makes  the  steed  fall  dead.  Lake  Katrine 
is  about  ten  miles  long  and  two  wide. 

Our  boat  sailed  nicely  around  “ Ellen’s  Isle,”  where 

“ For  retreat  in  liangerous  liour, 

tSome  chief  liad  framed  a mj’stic  Uower.” 

One  could  almost  see  Ellen  rowing  the  boat,  and  hear  her 
voice  from  the  thick  foliage,  saying, 

“ On  heaven  and  on  tliy  lady  call, 

And  enter  tlie  enchanted  hall.” 

And  still  Ellen  sings, 

“ Soldier,  rest ! TI13'  warfare  o’er, 

Sleep  the  sleep  that  knows  no  breaking ; 

Dream  of  battle-fields  no  more  — 

Daj’s  of  danger,  nights  of  waking.” 

By  wagons  our  company  crossed  the  Trosachs  Mountains 
(Bristled  Territory)  thirteen  miles,  and  took  cars  for  Ster- 
ling, the  old  capital  of  Scotland.  I had  over  a hundred 
miles’  travel  in  the  Highlands  of  Scotland,  and  was  pleased  to 
cross  again  the  river  Forth,  which,  by  an  old  saying,  “ Bridles 
the  Wild  Highlander.” 

It  was  a splendid,  bright  morning  that  welcomed  our  com- 
pany to  Sterling  Castle,  the  ancient  home  of  illustrious  kings 
and  queens.  You  gradually  ascend  a steep  road  under  the 
shadow  of  a great  wall,  from  twenty  to  thirty  feet  high  on 
the  north,  while  on  the  south  are  rocky  precipices  reaching 
down  hundreds  of  feet.  At  last  you  are  within  the  outer  wall 
of  protection,  and  are  in  front  of  a statue  on  which  you  read, 
“King  Robert  — the  Bruce,  June  24th,  1314.”  Then  crossing 
the  draw -bridge  over  the  deep  moat,  you  pass  through  the 
gateway  under  the  inner  wall,  beneath  which  kings,  queens, 
and  princes  were  wont  to  pass  from  the  earliest  history  of 
Scotland.  Another  wall  is  passed  through,  and  then  another, 
when  you  are  in  the  lower  square.  To  the  right  is  the  grand 
battery.  There,  looking  out  over  the  valleys  below,  are  those 


GS 


SCOTLAXB  AXD  FXOLAXD. 


old  cannon  whose  sounds  once  tliundered  forth  the  terror  of 
armies.  They  are  old  death -monitors  which  spoke  at  the 
voice  of  kings.  To  secure  ])ossession  of  this  castle  the  might- 
iest monarchs  on  these  islands  fought  with  j)owerful  armies. 
Under  the.se  walls,  Edward  and  Robert  Bruce,  whose  history 
reads  almost  like  mythology,  fouglit  the  greatest  battles  of 
Scotland.  It  remained  fbr  Cromwell  to  lav  it  in  the  heritage 
of  the  English  crown.  Here  the  Stuart  line  of  kings  de 
lighted  to  dwell.  Here  .Tames  II.  and  James  V.  were  born. 
It  is  the  scene  of  the  fears,  the  loves,  and  the  tragedies  of 
powerful  kings.  To  the  left  is  the  old  “Palace  Royal” — a 
giant  structure  of  .stone  which  has  defied  the  destruction  of 
centuries.  In  the  center  is  the  “Lion's  Den,’’  a hollow,  oblong 
.s(piare,  al)out  fifty  l)y  seventy-five  feet,  in  which  James  III. 
had  lions  confined  for  his  amusement.  About  it  are  cells  and 
heavy  walls,  showing  how  securely  prisoners  might  be  con- 
fined, where  they  could  hear  the  roar  of  the  ravenous  beasts. 

Many  scenes  here  such  as  this  give  to  one's  conception  a 
sad  comment  on  the  character  of  many  of  the  ancient  kings. 
Surely,  the  world  is  growing  better. 

From  the  Palace  Royal  the  access  is  easy  into  the  upper 
square,  which  must  embrace  nearly  half  an  acre.  To  the  right 
is  the  parliament  liouse,  and  in  front  of  this,  Chapel  Royal. 
To  the  left  is  the  Douglas  Room,  which  is  a kind  of  museum. 
Passing  between  the  chapel  and  Douglas  Room  you  have 
reached  the  garden,  and  to  the  right  may  ascend  the  terrace, 
and  looking  to  the  right  northward,  far  over  the  valley  below, 
is  the  field  over  which  the  armies  of  Sir  William  Wallace  and 
the  Earl  of  Surrey,  of  England,  in  1297,  met  in  awfid  conflict. 
On  a lofty  eminence  rises  the  Wallace  ^Monument  to  the  height 
of  two  hundred  and  twenty  feet.  Here,  too,  is  in  sight  the 
Sterling  Abbey  and  the  memorial  tomb  of  King  James  III., 
and  his  queen,  Margaret  of  Denmark.  Their  tomb  was  iden- 
tified in  1864,  when  a search  was  instituted  in  the  old  abbey. 
Thus  is  it  that  under  the  shadow  of  the  palace  of  royal  splen- 
dor there  is  always  a tomb.  Farther  to  the  Avest  are  the  beau- 
tiful plains  where  the  Duke  of  Argyll  fought  with  the  Earl  of 


MVRDKR  OF  EARL  OF  DOUGLAS. 


69 


Marvis,  in  1715.  Passing  around  to  the  southern  side  of  the 
gardei\  ui^on  the  terrace,  the  eye  rests  upon  the  Royal  Gar- 
dens, still  kept  in  the  form  of  olden  times,  where  sports  were 
made  for  the  king  and  his  court,  while  he  witli  his  royal 
women  could  look  down  upon  it  from  the  terrace  more  than 
three  hundred  feet  almo.st  perpendicular.  On  this  south 
terrace-wall  is  a hole  about  four  inches  in  diameter,  at  which 
Mary,  Queen  of  Scots,  the  last  royal  Scottish  (pieen,  used  to 
look  out  upon  the  royal  games  and  sports  in  the  garden  below. 
I stooped  down  and  took  a peep  througli  the  same  orifice  in  the 
stone.  Farther  away  over  the  valley  toward  the  sunrising  is 
the  field  of  Bannockburn,  in  which,  in  June,  1314,  Robert 
Bruce,  with  thirty  thou.«and  soldiers  of  Scotland,  met  Edward 
II.  at  the  liead  of  the  English  army  numbering  one  hundred 
thousand  men  of  war,  of  whom  history  records  that  thirty 
thousand  fell  in  one  day  by  the  sword  of  the  Highlanders. 
But  looking  out  over  these  fields  dotted  with  skirts  of  forests, 
presenting  one  of  the  most  delightful  if  not  the  grandest 
landscape  view  of  Scotland,  one  is  wont  to  forget  the  scenes 
and  memories  of  conflict  and  death.  "We  live  in  better  days. 
A city  of  beauty  is  at  our  feet ; and  far  to  the  north  are  the 
highlands  of  Scotland,  and  southward  the  valleys  ready  to 
yield  their  luxuriant  harvest.  Xow,  this  is  a blessed  as  well 
as  beautiful  land;  but  for  centuries  its  valleys  and  mount- 
ains ran  with  the  blood  of  many  a battle. 

In  the  Douglas  Room  of  the  castle  is  the  rude  oak  pulpit 
which  used  to  stand  in  the  Chapel  Royal,  from  which  Knox 
sometimes  used  to  preach  more  than  three  hundred  years  ago. 
From  it  Patrick  Galloway  preached  upon  the  occasion  of  the 
baptism  of  Henry, — on  the  30th  of  August,  1594.  It  is  of 
split  oak,  about  two  feet  wide  and  three  and  a half  feet  long. 
A few  steps  below,  in  a small  room,  I stood  in  the  identical 
chamber  where  James  II.  murdered  William,  earl  of  Douglas. 
He  had  brought  him  to  the  castle  under  a safe  conduct,  and 
wished  William  to  break  an  alliance  with  some  of  James’ 
enemies.  After  all  entreaties  proved  futile,  James  said  to 
him,  “ If  thou  wilt  not  break  the  bond,  this  will,”  and 


70 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


thrust  his  dagger  to  tlie  heart  of  William.  Some  of  the 
nobles  then  threw  the  body  out  of  a small  window  into  the 
garden,  where  it  was  reported  to  liave  been  buried,  a state- 
ment which  was  confirmed  by  the  exhuming  of  a human 
skeleton  in  1797.  Horrible  feelings  crept  over  me  as  I stood 
in  tliis  dingy  chamber  and  thought  of  the  bloody  scenes  en- 
acted there  centuries  ago, -by  those  long,  long  ago  j)a.ssed  into 
the  eternal  unseen.  Thrones  are  sometimes  built  upon  bell 
as  a foundation,  and  the  blood  of  victims  cries  out  from  tbe 
deserted  habitations  of  kings.  Passing  out  from  this  spot,  so 
profound  in  its  impressions  and  awful  in  its  historic  associa- 
tions, I visited  the  burying -grounds  below.  Here  sleep  un- 
numbered generations  of  the  dead.  Here  is  an  enduring 
monument  to  the  martyrs  of  the  Reformation.  Here  are  also 
splendid  statues  of  Knox,  Melvin,  and  Henderson.  Near  to 
the  old  cathedral  is  a .statue  of  James  Guthrie,  the  martyr 
who  labored  well  in  this  old  church  for  many  years,  and  paid 
the  price  at  Edinburgh,  June  1st,  1661.  But  I env}'  not  the 
heart  of  one  who  could  pass  without  emotion  the  delicate 
and  beautiful  monument  erected  to  the  Virgin  Mart}’rs.  It 
is  indeed  a beautiful  work  of  art,  and  commemorates  a splen- 
did but  sad  instance  of  heroism  in  which  Margaret  l\Iach- 
lochlan  and  ^largaret  "Wilson  suffered  death  by  drowning  in 
the  Solway,  May  11th,  16S5,  rather  than  deny  their  Lord.  In 
the  marble  below  the  glass  covering  which  shelters  the  three 
marble  forms  is  the  following  inscription  : 

M.VRO.VRET. 

Virgin  Martyr  of  the  Ocean  AVave,  with  her  like-minded  sister 

.VGXES. 

Love  many  waters  can  not  quench  — God  saves 
His  chaste  imperiled  one  in  covenant  true. 

O Scotia’s  daughter,  earnest  scan  the  page, 

And  prize  this  flower  of  good,  blood-bought  for  you. 

PS.4LMS  IX. — XIX. 

The  inscrijition  on  the  .slab  below  tells  the  history  of  this 
martyrdom  jierhaps  better  than  I could  })ut  it  in  my  own 
words.  “Through  faith  Margaret  Wilson,  a youthful  maiden, 


GUILD  HALL. 


71 


chose  rather  to  depart  and  he  with  Christ  than  to  disown  his 
holy  cause  and  covenant,  to  own  Erastian  usurpation  and 
conform  to  j)r(daey  enforced  by  cruel  laws.  Bound  to  a stake 
within  flood-mark  of  the  Solway  tide,  she  died  a martyr's 
death  on  the  11th  of  May,  1685.”  The  monument  presents 
in  clear,  white  marble  two  gentle  sisters  in  youth  studying 
the  word  of  God.  By  their  side  kneels  a lamb,  while  behind 
them  is  the  form  of  an  angel  with  the  laurel  in  hand  ready  to 
be  placed  uj)on  their  triumphant  brow.  The  marble  has  the 
delicacy  and  finish  of  wax,  and  tells  a story  of  devotion  to 
Christ  Avhich  softens  the  heart.  Here  in  this  land  of  martyrs 
there  now  stands  the  most  striking,  delicate,  and  enduring 
monument  to  their  glory.  These  scenes  reminded  me  of  the 
words  of  the  apostle,  “ And  others  had  trial  of  cruel  mockings 
and  scourgings,  yea,  moreover  of  bonds  and  imprisonment: 
they  were  stoned,  they  were  sawn  asunder,  were  tempted, 
were  slain  with  the  sword : they  wandered  about  in  sheep- 
skins and  goat-skins;  l>eing  destitute,  afflicted,  tormented;  of 
whom  the  world  was  not  worthy  : they  wandered  in  deserts, 
and  in  mountains,  and  in  dens  and  caves  of  the  earth.”  Near 
by  is  file  cathedral,  a grand  old  stone  structure,  dating  from 
the  fourteenth  century.  It  has  two  chancels  — the  east  and 
the  west.  In  the  former  of  these  James  VI.  was  crowned  in 
1567,  John  Knox  preaching  on  tlie  occasion.  The  stout  box- 
seats  look  as  if  they  may  have  been  there  half  a thousand 
years.  Near  the  church  is  Guild  Hall,  founded  by  John  Cow- 
ane as  a lios))ital.  Tlie  hall  contains  many  interesting  relics. 
The  following  inscription  is  seen  over  the  door  to  the  hall: 

“This  Hospital  was  larfjeh’  provyded  by  John  Cowane  Deane  of  Gild 
for  the  Entertainment  of  Decayed  Gild  Breither. 

John  Cowane. 

I was  hnngrie  and  ye  gave  me  meate 
I was  thirstie  and  ye  gave  me  drinke 
I was  a stranger  and  ye  tooke  me  in 
Naked  and  ye  clothed  iiie 
I was  sicke  and  3’e  visited  me 

Matt.  XXV.  35.” 

During  my  sojourn  in  Ireland  .and  Scotland  I often  had  oc- 


72 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


casion  to  contrast  the  inetliods  and  customs  of  those  countries 
Avith  those  of  our  own  America.  Sketches  so  hasty  as  these 
could  not  venture  a description  such  as  I should  like  to  fur- 
nish. I can  only  sketch  here  and  there  a place  of  antiquity 
and  now  and  then  draw  a picture. 

B(‘ing  anxious  to  observe  the  rites  paid  to  the  dead,  I at- 
tended several  funerals.  The  burial  of  the  dead  is  sad  enough 
at  best,  and  the  manner  of  its  performance  in  these  lands 
renders  it  still  more  dismal.  The  hearse  is  usually  clos(>d  up, 
so  as  to  prevent  the  sight  of  the  coffin.  The  hear.se,  which  is 
black,  is  overspread  with  nine  great  black  plumes,  two  feet  in 
diameter.  This  is  drawn  l>y  black  horses.  In  one  of  the 
cities  in  Ireland  I saw  the  horses  drawing  the  hearse  entirely 
covered  with  black  velvet.  No  one  can  imagine  the  spectacle 
a procession  forms  thus  headed  and  joined  by  carriages  all 
covered  with  mourning.  The  coffin  is  covered  with  black. 
Women  do  not  go  to  the  grave,  and  relatives  of  the  deceased 
do  not  attend  at  the  burial.  There  are  no  exercises  whatever 
at  the  grave,  except  in  Catholic  burials.  The  coffin  being 
lowered,  some  grass  is  thrown  upon  it  as  a covering,  and  the 
grave  is  then  filled  up,  without  a word  of  song  or  a breath  of 
prayer. 

The  Scotchman  is  a strong  character.  A stout  physique,  a. 
lordly  bearing,  and  a sturdy  morality  and  firm  faith  have  so 
impressed  the  world  that  in  our  own  America  any  man  is 
proud  if  he  can  trace  in  his  veins  a ruddy  droj)  of  Scottish 
blood.  This  sturdy  force  and  orderly  life  is  the  ja-oduct  of 
clear,  strong  ideas,  and  suffering  to  maintain  them.  Htill,  the 
reader  should  not  infer  that  these  stout  Presbyterian  pietists 
are  free  from  the  spice  of  wit  or  the  enjoyment  of  the  humor- 
ous. Yet  Scotchmen  do  not  parade  wit  as  a public  show. 
They  cherish  a high  regard  for  clergymen  ; but  their  stout 
natures  prefer  extemj)oraneous  to  manuscript  })n‘aching.  The 
story  is  told  of  Dr.  Thomas  Blackloek,  the  poet,  that  when 
he  Avas  preaching  a trial  sermon  at  a certain  place  an  old  lady 
Avho  sat  on  the  pulpit  stairs  inquired  of  one  near  her  whether 
the  doctor  was  a reader.  The  lady  answered,  '•  He  canna  be  a 


SCOTTISH  WIT. 


73 


reader,  for  he's  blin.”  The  answer  from  the  old  lady  on  the 
steps  was  quickly  returned,  “ I am  glad  to  hear  it ; I wish 
they  were  all  blin.” 

A good  story  is  told  by  Paxton  Hood  of  the  wit  of  a staunch 
supporter  of  a Scottish  preacher,  who  one  day  attended  the 
j)arson  from  the  kirk  to  the  manse.  The  minister,  seeing  his 
attendant  smiling,  said  to  him,  “What  makes  you  laugh, 
James?  It  is  un.seemly.  What  amuses  yo\i  ? ” “Oh,  naething, 
jjarticular,”  said  James;  “I  was  only  thinking  o’  something 
that  ha])pened  this  forenoon.”  “Tell  me  what  that  ’was,”  said 
the  preacher.  “Well,  minister,  dinna  he  angry  wi’ me;  but 
ye  ken  the  congregation  here  are  whiles  nae  plea.sed  to  get 
anld  sermons  fra’  you  ; and  this  morning  I got  the  better  o’  the 
kirk  se.s.sion,  any  way.”  “How  was  that,  James?”  “Deed, 
sir,  when  we  come  out  o’  the  kirk  this  morning  I kenna  wdiat 
they  ’svere  a thinking ; and  says  I,  ‘ Eh,  but  ye  canna  ca’  that 
an  auld  sermon  this  day,  for  its  not  above  sax  weeks  since  ye 
heard  it  last.’  ” 


CHAPTER  III. 


Edinburgh — Monuments  — Edinburgh  Castle  — Room  of  Mary — Holy- 
rood  Palace — Murder  of  Rizzio — Home  of  Knox  — Grave  of  Knox  — 
His  Character — Martyrs  — Abbotsford  — Labors  of  Scott  — Vale  of  the 
Tweed  — Scott’s  Grave  at  Dryburgh  Abbej'  — Melrose  Abbey  — Fare- 
well to  Scotland. 


jOWHERE  on  the  globe  is  tliere  ;i  fairer  city  than 
Edinburgh,  at  once  the  Athens  and  Jerusalem  of 
Scotland.  There  are  cities  mightier  for  their  com- 
merce, and  of  surpassing  numbers;  hut  in  culture, 
antitpiity,  sacred  associations,  morality,  :ind  religion  it 
stands  tvith  scarcely  a rival.  God  planted  the  foundations 
“in  towering  strength  and  surpassing  beauty.’’  Its  three  hills, 
like  pillars  of  might  to  adorn  the  softer  beauty  of  tlie  valley, 
give  it  a majesty  which  has  been  crowned  with  the  jiresence 
of  godliness  and  the  fascination  of  art.  It  was  once  tlie  scene 
of  martyrdom  for  the  cause  of  Christ ; and  tlie  guillotine  is 
yet  to  he  seen  in  the  Antiquarian  Museum,  which  fell  with  its 
weighted  knife  on  the  devoted  necks  of  the  martyred  C'ov- 
enanters.  It  is  with  a strange  ])ain  of  heart  one  looks  upon 
the  covenants  signed  with  the  blood  of  the  Covenanter.-^,  and 
then  upon  the  thumb-screw,  so  often  used  in  the  torture  of  the 
Covenanters,  and  which  King  William  declared  Avould  extort 
any  secret  from  any  man.  Now,  Edinburgh  rejoices  in  the 
triumph  of  religious  freedom  and  in  the  culture  of  character, 
arts,  and  science,  which  Protestantism  always  produces  and 
fosters.  Edinburgh  is  both  ancient  and  modern,  having  an  old 
and  a new  part,  which  are  divided  by  a beautiful  valley.  This 
is  ilecorated  on  either  side  of  the  great  railway  and  station 

with  gardens  of  Howers  and  delightful  grassv  plats.  St.  Prin- 

74 


EDINBURGH  CASTLE. 


cess  Street,  on  the  south  of  the  inov  part  of  the. city,  overlook- 
ing tlie  valley  and  the  older  i)ortion  of  the  city,  is  the  most 
l)eautiful  and  delightful  in  its  fronting  one  could  wish.  Close 
l)y  the  gardens  of  the  street  is  the  monument  of  Sir  Walter 
Scott,  reported  to  be  the  finest  in  the  world  The  design  is 
that  of  a monumental  cross,  Avith  the  central  tower  su})- 
j)orted  by  four  arches.  Its  top,  which  is  tAvo  hundred  feet 
high,  is  easily  reached  by  a stainA'ay.  It  was  founded  forty 
years  ago.  Its  architect  Avas  a young  man,  George  M.  Kemp, 
Avhose  excessive  devotion  to  the  production  caused  his  un- 
timely death  at  his  OAvn  hands.  The  structure  was  completed, 
as  it  now  stands,  in  1847,  and  cost  seventy-eight  thousand,  two 
hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  The  marble  statue  of  Scott  under 
tbe  central  arcli,  from  the  hand  of  Mr.  .John  Steell,  presents 
him  in  great  force  and  l)eauty,  and  cost  over  ten  thousand 
tlollars.  The  niches  of  the  monument  are  filled  Avith  marble 
figures  of  tbe  heroes  of  Scott.  On  the  same  street,  a little 
Avest,  is  a bronze  statue  of  the  giant  Professor  Wilson  (Christo- 
])her  North).  Farther  on  is  a marble  statue  of  Ramsay,  the 
])oet.  There  are  also  other  splendid  statues  on  the  street, 
among  AA'hich  is  a bronze  equestrian  statue  of  the  dirke  of 
Wellington.  In  George’s  Square  is  an  eejnestrian  statue  of 
Prince  Albert,  AA'hile  on  Barton  Hill  is  a statue  of  Burns. 

Edinburgh  Castle  staads  at  the  Avest  of  the  city,  uj)on  a 
I'ock  several  hundred  feet  high.  In  its  structure  it  largely 
resend)les  Sterling  Castle,  and  its  history  embraces  many  of 
the  illustrious  names  Avhich  are  connected  AA'ith  it.  The 
CroAvn-room  contains  the  Scottish  croAvn,  SAA'ord,  and  scc])ter, 
Avith  other  treasures  of  royalty.  They  are  s(‘veral  hundred 
years  old,  and  never  Avere  really  AA'orth  very  much,  though  they 
Avere  alAA'ays  highly  jn-ized  e\'en  as  now.  The  room  of  (^ueen 
^larv  is  shown,  Avhere  .James  VI.,  the  last  king  of  Scotland, 
and  the  first  king  in  Avhose  dominion  England  and  Scotland 
Avere  united,  AA'as  born  in  1-566.  Tbe  rooms  are  small  and 
dingy.  The  highest  point  in  the  castle  is  Margaret’s  Chapel, 
the  date  of  Avhich  seems  to  be  fixed  as  early  as  the  eleA’enth 
century.  It  has  but  one  recommendation  — it  is  near  to 


7G 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


heaven.  in  front  of  its  entranee  is  a hnge  cannon, 

calleil  “Mons  Meg.”  Its  inontli  is  about  twenty-one  inches  in 
• liaineter.  It  is  stated  l)v  tlie  inscription  on  tire  carriage  that 
it  was  in  the  Durabartoii  siege  in  14S9,  and  at  Xorliam  in 
1497.  Much  of  this  castle  dates  from  the  twelfth  century, 
hike  that  .of  Sterling,  it  is  usc'd  as  barracks  for  soldiers. 

A ])lace  of  much  greater  royal  interest  is  known  as  Holy- 
ro(Ml  Palace,  the  home  of  more  Scottish  roj’alty  than  any  other 
place  in  Scotland.  It  calls  David  I.  its  founder,  and  its  his- 
tory dates  Ijaek  to  1128.  Queen  Mary's  apartments,  Avhich 
are  the  most  interesting  to  visitors,  were  built  probably  by 
Ja.mes  V.  The  portrait-gallery  is  about  one  hundred  and  fifty 
feet  long,  and  contains  oil-portraits  of  kings,  j)rinces,  queens, 
and  prince.sses.  Among  the  most  interesting  of  the.se  are 
Queen  Mary,  James  III.,  and  his  queen,  Margaret  of  Den- 
mark. The  apartments  of  Queen  Mary  here  remain  in 
some  respects  as  when  she  left  them.  This  is  true  of  the 
audience-chamber,  with  its  old  chairs,  and  the  bed-room  with 
the  old  bed  and  bed-clothing,  and  the  little  baby-basket  sit- 
ting by  the  side.  Here  om?  is  reminded  of  the  bloody  scene 
which  occurred  in  1560,  Mary  was  shrewdly  suspected  of 
being  too  intimate  with  Rizzio,  a French  music-teacher,  of 
whom  Lord  Darnlej",  her  husband,  became  jealous.  It  will 
illustrate  to  the  reader  the  method  of  adjusting  the  jealous 
royal  family  grievances  to  note  how  this  case  was  handled. 
The  fascinating  Frenchman  who  had  Avon  the  heart  of  Mary 
Avas  not  long  to  escape  bloody  vengeance.  A plot  for  the  mur- 
der of  Rizzio  Avas  made  in  the  room  beloAv ; and  Lord  Darn- 
ley  first  entered  the  j)rivate  room  of  the  queen,  just  back  of 
the  bed-chamber,  and  sat  Avith  his  arm  fondly  around  Mary’s 
Avaist.  Soon  Lord  Ruthven  entered  the  room,  clad  in  armor, 
folloAved  by  others.  As  the  queen  asked  Avhy  they  came,  Riz- 
zio saAv  that  his  end  had  come,  and  clasped  the  garments  of 
the  queen  for  protection ; but  he  Avas  quickly  dragged  from 
the  room  to  the  bed-chamber,  Avhere  he  received  a thrust  from 
a dagger  snatched  from  Darnley's  belt  by  Douglas.  The  victim 
was  then  dragged  to  the  head  of  the  stairs  Avhere  he  was 


OLD  SCOTTISH  LAXOILIOH  77 

quickly  dispatched,  notwithstanding  the  tears  and  pleadings 
of  the  queen.  Slie,  liowever,  soon  dried  her  tears  and  began 
t(i  “study  revenge;’’  and  tlie  residts  the  reader  well  knows. 
Darnley,  whose  siek-ehand)(>r  aftt'rward  received  the  niiiiistra- 
tions  of  tlie  queen,  no  doul)t  met  his  fate  at  her  hands,  as  his- 
tory has  adjudged.  Her  marriage  witli  Bothwell  soon  led  to 
the  gravest  suspicion  and  to  lu'r  (h'thromnuent.  But  in  Holy- 
rood  Palace,  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  the  stain  of  Rizzio’s 
blood  is  yet  to  he  seem  on  the  hare  floor. 

Queen  Victoria  has  coni])artments  at  Holyrood,  which  she 
occupies  when  at  Edinburgh,  tliougli  her  Scotland  home  is  at 
Balmoral,  where  she  spends  much  of  lier  time.  With  a pecul- 
iar grace  the  Scotchman  says.  “Her  iMajesty  the  Queen  is 
very  fond  of  Scotland.” 

The  old  Scottish  language  witli  wliich  Burns  has  made  Amer- 
icans familiar  docs  not  prevail  in  Scotland,  as  I had  supposed 
it  did.  Prohalily  the  Scottish  language  s}>rung  up  hc.side  the 
English  as  a sister,  receiving  its  ca.'-st  from  the  Danish  and  Nor- 
wegian elements  thrown  into  it  by  the  ScandinaA'ian  branch 
of  the  old  Teutonic  language.  We  learn  from  the  writings 
of  Burns  the  former  fullness  of  the  vowel  sounds  in  the  lan- 
guage. But  these  are  passing  out  of  hearing  and  practice, 
and  the  deep  pathos  of  the  old  Scotch  language  is  almost  lost 
from  Scotland.  The  reader  is  familiar  with  it  through  the 
reading  of  the  q)oems  of  Robert  Burns ; but  still  I will  venture 
to  insert  here  tlu'  twimty-third  psalm  : 

“ The  Lord  is  niy  herd  ; nae  want  sal  fa’  me. 

“ He  louts  me  till  lie  amaiifr  green  howes;  He  airts  me  atowye  by  the 
lown  waters. 

“He  waukens  my  wa’ — gaen  saul;  He  weises  [me  rown,  for  His  aiii 
name’s  sake,  intil  right  roddins. 

“ Na,  tho’  I gang  thro,  the  dead-mirk  — dail ; e'en  thar  sal  I dread  nae 
skaithin  ; for  yersel  are  nar-by  me  ; yer  stok  an’  yer  stay  hand  me  baith 
fil’  cheerie. 

“ My  buird  ye  hae  hansell’d  in  face  o’  my  faes ; ye  hae  drookit  my 
head  wi’  oyle ; my  bicker  is  /a’  an'  skailin. 

“ E’en  sae  sal  gude  guidin  an’  gude  gree  gang  wi’  me,  ilk  day  o’  my 
livin ; an’  evir  mair  syne,  i’  the  Lord’s  ain  howff,  at  lang  last,  sal  I mak 
bydan.” 


78 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


Standing  at  the  foot  of  High  Street,  in  Edinburgh,  and  look- 
ing down  the  narrow  thoroughfare,  crowded  with  tall,  dingy 
houses,  past  the  Tolbooth, — the  old  royal  buildings, — all  of 
which  have  been  there  from  three  hundred  years  and  upward 
ad  infinitum,  one  beholds  at  the  head  of  this  street,  called 
“Canon  Gate,”  in  full  view,  the  home  of  John  Knox,  the  great 
Scotch  reformer,  in  which  he  lived  from  1560  to  tlie  date  of 
his  death  — twelve  years.  It  contains  three  rooms — tlie  sit- 
ting-room, bed-room,  and  study.  The  entrance  to  tlie  second 
story  is  reached  by  a fliglit  of  steps  on  the  outside  of  the 
building.  Al)Ove  the  door  of  the  lower  story,  and  running 
across  tlie  width  of  the  house,  is  the  following  inscription  : 

“LI'VE.  Gon.  ABUVE.  AL.  AND  YI.  NYCHTBOUR.  AS.  YI.  SELF.” 

Above  tliis  inscription,  in  the  stone  at  the  corner  of  the 
wall,  is  an  effigy  about  one  foot  high,  Avhich  has  Ixum  under- 
stood to  repre.sent  Knox  preaching.  Tt  is  evidently  intended 
to  represent  the  form  and  face  of  Moses  the  lawgiver.  The 
right  hand  points  to  the  following  inscription  : 

“ Theos 
Deus 
God.” 

As  I remembered  the  life  and  struggles  and  heroism  and 
faith  of  Knox  I almost  expected  to  see  him  walk  down  the 
steps  and  uji  to  his  old  church.  Knox  was  the  instrument 
which  through  God  redeemed  and  delivered  Scotland.  Ih' 
was  born  at  Gifford,  in  East  Lothian,  in  1505,  and  entered 
Glasgow  University  in  1522.  Up  to  1545  we  hear  but  little 
of  him,  when  he  suddenly  appeared  as  the  sword-bearer  ol‘ 
Wishart.  He  was  for  ten  years  a priest  of  Rome;  and  it  was 
not  until  he  had  reached  the  age  of  fifty-four  years  that  the 
grand  struggle  of  his  life  began.  Four  years  he  preached  in 
England,  until  he  mini.stercd  before  the  king.  He  then,  in  the 
providence  of  God,  became  the  embodiment  of  the  Scottish 
reformation.  He  claimed  and  held  to  the  supremacy  of  the 
word  of  God.  Knox  and  Queen  Mary  were  the  leaders  in 
that  awful  struggle.  The  balances  swung  with  doubt  for  a 


CHARACTER  OF  KXOX. 


79 


time;  l)iit  tlie  in-ayer,  “Give  me  Scotland  or  I die,”  was  not 
allowed  to  lie  on  God’s  altar  unanswered.  The  old  pulpit 
from  wi)ieli  Knox  thundered  the  tremendous  missiles  of  death 
. to  ])operv  and  poured  forth  the  words  of  life  to  the  peojde  is 
\u‘t  ])reserved  in  the  Antiquarian  Museum.  In  the  court-yard 
t>etween  St.  (dies  Cathedral  (Knox’s  old  church)  and  the  par- 
liament huildings,  and  close  hy  an  equestrian  statue  of  Charles 
11.,  is  ar  hrown  stone  about  eighteen  inches  square  in  the  pave- 
ment of  the  street.  In  its  center  is  the  following,  in  brass- 
raised  h'tters : 

I.  K. 

1572. 

And  beneath  this  stone  rest  the  ashes  of  him  who  never  feared 
th(>  face  of  man.  Knox,  strange  to  say,  has  no  ,«tatue  or  mon- 
ument in  Edinburgh,  and  yet  all  Scotland  is  a monument  to 
his  memory.  The  quiet  Sabbath,  such  as  is  nowhere  else  to 
l)c  found,  with  the  fullne.ss  of  religious  liberty  throughout 
th(>  land,  is  his  monument  of  an  imperisha1)le  fame  Knox 
was  not  an  angel.  He  had  not  that  mildness  and  sweetness 
which  might  have  been  expected  of  one  so  grand.  He  drew 
his  illustrations  and  spirit  often,  apparently,  from  the  Old 
Testament  rather  than  from  the  Kew.  He  was  the  one  to 
eomhat  popery,  an  adulterous  and  bloody  queen,  and  all 
hell.  No  wonder  that  he  sometimes  struck  like  a thunder- 
bolt. But  there  were  others  of  his  times  and  later  years.  I 
not  only  could  not  enough  appreciate  the  soul  of  these  men 
who  signed  tliis  covenant  to  defend  the  truth  and  resist  error 
with  all  their  power,  but  was  made  to  sorrow  over  my  own 
•;lothfulu('ss  as  I read  in  the  museum  the  names  of  those  men 
from  tlie  original  document  where  they  stand  suhscril)cd  with 
their  own  blood.  But  for  that  deed  they  fell  under  that 
horrid  old  guillotine  close  by.  In  the  church-yard  of  the 
GiTvfriars  “ lie  the  headless  martyrs  of  the  covenant ; ” for 
not  less  than  one  hundred  noble  men,  women,  and  minister 
martyrs  are  buried  there.  The  old  treasurer’s  books  still  tell 
how  much  was  paid,  and  to  whom,  for  their  execution.  But 
their  lives  were  followed  by  the  illustrious  in  learning  and 


80 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


Christian  toil.  Here  labored  Dr.  Thomas  Chalmers,  and  Dr. 
Thomas  Guthrie, of  our  own  century  ; Init  now  their  ashes  rest 
in  the  cemetery  in  tlie  western  jiart  of  the  city,  close  by  those 
of  Dr.  Duff,  the  early  Christian  missionary. 

Before  leaving  Scotland  I devoted  one  day  to  visiting  the 
home  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  who  stands  forever  as  one  of  the 
most  illustrious  literary  characters  and  personages  of  history. 
In  some  respects  Charles  Dickens  has  since  his  day- been  a 
rival,  but  as  a Avhole  the  world  has  seen  no  literary  character 
his  equal  since  he  was  l)uried  in  Drvburgli  Abbey.  He  was 
born  in  Edinburgh,  August  15,  1771,  and  resided  there  for  a 
number  of  years,  where  he  was,  I believe,  an  elder  in  Dr.  Chal- 
mers’ church.  Abbotsford,  the  well-known  Imme  of  Scott 
during  tlie  greater  part  of  his  life,  is  nearly  forty  miles  south- 
ward from  Edinburgh,  in  the  “Vale  of  the  Tweed.”  It  is  a 
beautiful  spot  indeed,  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Tweed. 
Scotland  has  no  home  where  are  found  such  evidences  of 
culture  and  learning.  It  has  sometimes  been  called  “ a poem 
in  lime,  and  stone,  and  mortar.’’  When  one  looks  at  the 
gardens  and  walls,  and  walks,  and  shrubs,  aird  trees  which  are 
about  Abbotsford,  and  then  at  the  treasures  of  books  and 
relics  which  the  homo  contains,  he  can  not  wonder  that  Sir 
Walter  was  often  hard  pressed  for  money.  The  Avonder  is  that 
his  literary  lal)or  should  have  been  remunerative  enough  to 
have  secured  all.  Had  he  not  been  a j)rodigy  as  well  as  a 
giant,  he  must  have  utterly  failed.  The  home  has  a study, 
library,  drawing-room,  and  armory  into  Avhich  visitors  are 
shown  upon  the  payment  of  a shilling.  The  study  contains 
a Avriting-table,  and  the  large  plain  arm-chair,  covered  with 
dark  leather,  in  Avhich  the  poet  used  to  sit.  On  all  sides  the 
Avails  are  set  Avith  book.-<.  The  ceiling  is  high,  and  half  Avay 
up  is  a light  gallery  around  AA-hich  Sir  Walter  used  to  Avalk  to 
reach  the  books  at  the  top,  and  by  Avhich  he  also  passed 
through  a j)riA'ate  door  to  his  bed-chamber.  The  most  inter- 
esting room  is  the  library,  AA’hich  contains  about  tAA'enty 
thousand  volumes,  many  of  Avhich  are  rare  and  valuable. 
There  are  also  a number  of  portraits  and  busts  here.  In  the 


SroT'rs  GRAVE  AT  DRYBURGII  ABBEY.  81 


(lra\vin;;-room  tluTo  are  portraits  of  Scott's  mother,  his  son 
who  died  some  years  ago  in  London  on  his  way  from  India, 
of  his  two  daughters,  his  wife,  and  the  head  of  Mary,  Queen 
of  Scots,  after  her  beheading.  The  armory  is  a museum  of 
itself.  Here  are  the  pistols  of  Napoleon,  given  to  Scott  V)y  the 
Duke  of  Wellington,  who  captured  them  at  Waterloo.  In  the 
large  entrance-hall  are  curiosities  heyond  number,  coats  of 
arms  and  military  equij^ments  of  former  times  — curiosities 
indeed.  In  a case  to  the  right  of  the  door,  in  and  out  of 
which  Scott  and  his  illustrious  visitors  used  to  pa.ss,  are  the 
clothes  he  last  wore.  The  suit  consists  of  a hroad-brimmed 
white  fur-hat,  heavy  shoes,  striped  pants,  and  black  vest  and 
coat.  While  the  home  is  beautiful  and  attractive,  it  is  retired 
and  not  imposing.  It  is  now  owned  by  a great-granddaugh- 
ter of  Scott's,  the  wife  of  Hon.  .1.  Constable  Maxwell,  who, 
after  the  fashion  of  ladies  who  marry  in  America,  has  taken 
the  name  of  Scott  to  his  former  name. 

Six  or  .seven  miles  down  the  Tweed  from  Abbotsford,  in 
Dryburgh  Abhi'y,  is  the  toml)  of  this  great  jmet  of  Scotland. 
The  ahbey  is  one  of  the  largest  ruins  in  Scotland.  It  was 
founded  in  1156,  and  once  had  immense  and  imposing  pro- 
portions, but  has  been  in  ruins  for  ages.  In  the  most  interest- 
ing and  well  preserved  part,  St.  Mary’s  Aisle,  is  the  tomb  of 
Scott,  who  died  September  21,  1832,  at  near  the  age  of  sixtv- 
one  years.  His  'ourial  here  seems  to  have  been  on  account 
of  its  containing  the  tombs  of  some  of  his  ancestors.  His 
wife  and  eldest  son  lie  under  the  marble  case  by  his  side.  At 
the  head  of  his  tomb  is  buried  his  son-in-law,  Mr.  Lockhart. 
Death  pays  no  re.spect  to  genius  or  fame.  The  Vale  of  the 
Tweed  is  the  emhodiment  of  delicate  heauty ; yet  its  charms 
could  not  entice  death  away  from  Abbotsford.  The  great 
scholar  and  author  could  pen  thoughts  and  j)roduce  books 
over  which  the  world  pores  with  profound  delight  and  bewil- 
derment of  admiration,  but  confessed  when  dying  that  there 
was  but  one  book,  and  that  the  book  whose  teachings,  truths, 
and  divine  philosophies  stretch  across  all  worlds.  The  soul 
lives  and  the  body  has  gone  to  dust,  where 
6 


FCOTLAyD  AXD  KXaLAXD. 


“ Xuked  stand  the  melancholy  walls, 

Lashed  by  the  wintry  tempests  cold  and  bleak, 

That  whistle  mournful  through  the  empty  halls. 

And  piece-meal  crumble  down  the  towers  to  dust.” 

Only  a few  miles  from  Ahbot.sford  is  Melrose,  the  railroad 
])oint  from  which  the  former  ])lace  is  reached  by  private  con- 
veyance. Melrose  Abbey  is  one  of  the  grandest  and  most 
imposing  ruins  in  the  world.  The  carvings  and  images  in 
stoite,  which  are  to  be  seen  by  scores  everywhere,  tell  the  story 
of  the  art  which  flourished  under  Catholic  dominion  eight 
hundred  years  ago.  The  church  is  in  the  usual  form  of  a 
cross,  two  hundred  and  fifty-eight  feet  long,  and  the  transept 
one  hundred  and  thirty-seven  feet,  with  a scpiare  tower  in  the 
center,  eighty-four  feet  high.  What  is  remarkable  is  that 
among  the  hundreds  of  stone  carvings  and  scores  uf  efligies, 
no  two  of  them  are  alike.  Beneath  these  stones  are  entombed 
the  bodies  of  many  heroes  of  Avar  and  remarkable  prelates. 
In  the  choir  is  marked  the  spot  Avhere  Avas  buried  the  heart 
of  Robert  the  Bruce,  who  fought  the  battle  of  Bannockburn 
but  Avho  died  of  lejwosy.  An  etfort  Avas  made  to  carry  his 
heart  to  Palestine,  to  be  buried  at  Jerusalem.  He  to  Avhom 
the  precious  task  Avas  committed  fell  in  battle  in  Spain,  and 
the  h(‘art  Avas  brought  back  ami  buried  in  ^lelrose  Abbey. 
AboAit  tliese  cloisters,  monks  Avandered  hundreds  of  years  ago 
in  moral  delusion  and  night,  then  more  gloomy  than  even 
the.se  old  ruined  Avails  and  cloistcTS  noAv  .seem  to  us.- 

There  is  something  inde.scribably  grand  and  yet  melan- 
choly in  these  ancient  ruins.  Tliey  are  monuments  of  a life 
that  once  Avas,  and  mementoes  of  death.  Accustomed  to  a 
neAV  country  Avhere  really  there  is  nothing  Avhich  bears  the 
marks  of  age,  one  feels  here,  in  the  presence  of  these  ruins 
of  centuries  Avhieh  .still  stand  up  as  if  to  tlefy  the  Avork  of 
time,  that  the  shadows  of  ilecaying  ages  are  over  him.  Artists 
here  and  there  sat  sketching  the  A'aridus  parts  of  these  toAver- 
ing  ruins.  I have  their  image,  but  they  make  me  hunger  for 
eternal  life  and  the  land  Avhere  all  is  one  temple  to  the  living 
God  — one  palace  of  his  saints.  There  is  a fatherland  Avhere 


MELROSE  ABBEY. 


83 


temples  fall  not  into  ruins,  and  where  tlie  deep,  somber,  mel- 
ancholy shades  of  moldering  abbeys  never  throw  over  the  soul 
their  softening  sliadows. 

Walter  Scott  wrote, — 

“ If  thou  wouldst  view  fair  Melrose  aright 
Go  visit  it  by  the  pale  moouliglit.” 


Lodging  one  night  in  the  hotel  close  by  Melrose  Abbey, 
I find  this  entry  in  my  diary,  made  at  the  midnight  hour, 
which  shall  be  the  reader’s  present  farewell  to  Scotland; 


84 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


“I  am  lodging  to-night  in  the  ‘Abbey  Hotel/  with  my 
windows  looking  out  upon  these  venerable  ruins  only  a few 
yards  away.  They  present  in  the  pale  moonlight  a scene  of 
awful  grandeur.  But  as  these  lines  run  on  and  on,  that  old 
bell  up  somewhere  in  the  abbey-ruins,  swinging  over  the 
graves  of  warriors  and  mojiks  and  priests,  every  hour  strikes 
its  doleful  notes,  and  in  sepulchral  tones  marks  the  knell 
of  time.  It  makes  one  tremble.  There,  it  strikes  again  — 
one,  two,  three,  four,  five,  six,  seven,  eight,  nine,  ten,  eleven, 
twelve  ! It  is  midnight.  Good-night.  Soon  our  ears  will  be 
dull  as  those  in  the  sepulchral  vaults.  We  shall  be  asleep, 
alas,  asleep  — asleep,  asleep, — but  I trust  not  forever!  There 
is  a morning  to  come.  Beyond  that  morning  all  things  are 
new.” 


CHAPTER  IV. 


Entering  London  — Population  of  London — Cost  of  its  Support  — Streets 
— Billingsgate  — Charitj'  — Parliament  Building  — Queen’s  Kobing- 
Room  — Prince’s  Cliamber — Portraits — Henry  and  his  Wives — House 
of  Lords — House  of  Commons—  Westminster  Hall  — Cromwell,  Lord 
Protector— St.  ^Margaret’s  Chapel— Sir  Walter  Raleigh — Canon  Farrar. 


one  from  America  can  visit  England  without  a feel- 
ing of  kindredness.  He  is  going  hat'k  to  the  home 
of  his  ancestors.  He  is  crowded  witli  interest  in 
everything  he  sees,  and  everything  he  looks  upon 
seems  crowded.  The  whole  country  of  England,  Scot- 
land, ami  Ireland  is  smalh'r  in  territory  than  some  single 
states  in  America.  Yet  here  is  an  empire  in  a garden.  Great 
cities  crowd  the  islands,  and  tlieir  commerce  sails  on  all  seas. 
It  would  reqtiire  volumes  to  describe  the  cities  and  social  and 
business  centers  of  England.  I must  take  the  reader  directlv 
to  London,  the  metropolis  of  the  world.  It  may  he  of  inter- 
est to  .some  to  know  that  the  writer’s  entrance  to  it  was 
by  “The  Flying  Dutchman,”  as  the  train  is  called  which 
made  sixty  miles  per  hour.  The  English  railroad-ears  are  a 
thing  to  he  got  used  to.  They  have  their  disadvantages  as 
well  as  excellences.  Their  track  is  wider  than  is  common  in 
America,  and  the  ear-wheels  higher  and  lighter.  The  ear  is 
wider  and  shorter  than  ours.  It  is  divided  into  two  and 
(»ften  three  compartments,  entered  from  the  side  of  the  coach, 
the  seats  facing  each  other  running  across  the  car,  each  com- 
jtartment  seating  eight  per.sons.  Some  have  saloon  a})art- 
inents  larger  and  containing  one  seat  running  along  the  side 
of  the  car,  thus  seating  fifteen  or  tw’enty  persons.  The  com- 
partments have  no  connection  or  communication  with  each 

85 


86 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


other,  and  there  are  no  provisions  whatever  for  drinking- 
water  or  water-closets,  nor  have  you  any  conductor  to  trouble 
you,  or  into  wliose  ear  little  questions  may  be  poured.  Your 
ticket  is  examined  and  ])unched  at  the  gateway  admitting  to 
the  cars  and  demanded  when  you  go  out  at  your  destination, 
or  on  local  trains  at  stations  by  masters.  There  are  three 
classes  of  tickets  sold — fir.st,  second,  and  third;  and  fir.«t,  sec- 
ond, and  third-cla.ss  com2)artments  are  accordingly  fitted  in 
the  cars  and  run  on  every  train.  These  do  not  differ  in  their 
arrangements  except  as  they  are  made  more  or  less  comfort- 
able and  ornamental  in  the  cushioning,  etc.,  according  to  the 
class.  The  larger  per  cent  of  the  people  travel  in  second-class 
cars,  which  are  quite  comfortable,  and  very  many  go  on  the 
third-class,  especially  for  short  distances,  it  being  fully  one 
half  less  expensive  than  first-class.  Second-class  cars  are 
always  cushioned,  while  the  third  are  sometimes  so,  and  the 
first-class  elaborately  cushioned  and  furnished  with  spring 
seats.  There  is  no  system  of  checking  baggage  in  Euroi:)e  as  in 
America.  You  take  all  you  can  into  the  car  with  you,  and  if 
you  are  accompanied  with  a trunk  it  is  marked  to  the  station 
you  indicate  and  quit  into  a baggage-car.  Then  you  look  after 
it  and  get  it  tlu>  best  way  j’ou  can.  It  seems  to  be  so  done  in 
order  to  give  the  porters  an  opportunity  to  get  a few  pence 
from  you  at  every  town. 

The  same  kind  of  cai’s  is  used  on  the  continent.  In  all  of 
England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland  there  is  much  greater  regard 
for  human  life  than  in  America,  and  danger  of  accidents  is 
avoided.  No  highways  cross  the  track.  They  go  under,  or 
upon  a bridge  entirely  above  the  track.  No  jierson  is  allowed 
to  walk  across  the  track,  there  being  foot-bridges  eveiywhere 
at  every  station,  with  steps  at  cither  side.  This  is  true  in 
cities,  towns,  and  villages  alike;  and  from  this  America  could 
Avell  learn  a lesson  to  the  profit  of  many. 

London  is  acknowb'dged  as  the  greatest  city  man  has  built. 
It  is  not  tbe  most  beautiful,  or  tbe  most  tasteful,  or  the  best, 
perha])S,  yet  it  is  the  greatest.  It  would  require  years  to  see  it 
and  know  it ; and  the  writer  had  but  a short  month,  so  that 


CITY  OF  LONDON. 


87 


he  can  only  venture  a description  of  a few  of  the  more  inter- 
esting jdaces.  It  is  almost  ont  of  the  range  of  possibilities  to 
get  an  adecpiate  conception  of  the  vastness  of  this  city  as  to 
population,  l)nsiness,  or  commerce.  Mere  figures  fail  to  pre- 
sent it.  To  he  sure,  every  one  knows  how  many  four  million 
five  hundred  thousand  are.  Yet  who  feels  the  force  of  the.'^e 
numbers  when  applied  to  the  population  of  a single  city?  It 
is  said  there  are  more  Scotchmen  here  than  in  Edinburgh, 
more  Irish  than  in  Dublin,  and  more  -lews  than  in  all  Pales- 
tine. The  city  is  fourteen  miles  long  and  eight  miles  wide, 
and  covers  an  area  of  over  one  hundred  and  twenty -two 
srpiare  miles.  It  has  nearly  eight  thousand  streets.  If  they 
were  put  end  to  end  they  would  more  than  reach  across 
the  American  continent.  It  takes  more  than  a million  gas- 
lights and  electric  lights  to  drive  out  the  nocturnal  darkness. 
There  are  over  eleven  hundred  churches,  and  seven  thousand 
])ublic  houses  of  entertainment.  Or,  put  it  in  this  way  : jjut 
New  York,  Brooklyn,  Philadelphia,  Baltimore,  Chicago,  St. 
Louis,  Cincinnati,  and  Buffalo  all  in  one  city,  and  then  throw 
in  Kan.sas  City,  Lecompton,  Columbus,  Westerville,  IIart.«- 
ville,  Indiamn)olis,  Harrisburg,  Annville,  Dayton,  Westfield, 
Sacramento,  and  some  more,  and  yet  you  have  not  a city  so 
large  as  London.  Or,  following  the  example  of  another,  let  it 
lie  put  this  way:  It  takes  nearly  four  hundred  tliousand 

oxen  for  beef  ]ier  year,  or  about  eleven  hundred  jier  day; 
sheep,  one  million, five  hundred  thousand  jier  year;  one  hun- 
dred and  thirty  thousand  calves;  two  hundred  and  fifty 
thou.sand  hogs;  four  hundred  million  jiounds  of  fish;  five 
million  oysters ; one  million  two  hundred  thousand  lobsters; 
tliree  million  salmon  ; eight  million  head  of  game  and  poultry. 
More  than  twenty  thousand  vessels  enter  the  port  every  year, 
and  its  exports  liy  the  River  Thames  must  every  year  reach 
the  value  of  five  hundred  million  dollars.  It  takes  over  ten 
thousand  cabs  to  carry  the  people  where  they  want  to  go, 
besides  the  street-cars  and  the  underground  cars;  and  yet 
everybody  seems  to  be  going  on  foot. 

The  streets  of  London  are  narrow,  and  narrow  sidewalks 


88 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


-welcome  the  pedestrian.  The  streets  run  everyn’here  and 
every  way,  crossing  at  every  possible  angle.  Everywhere  the 
street-sweeper  with  his  pan  and  hrnsli  is  out  sweeping  up  the 
dirt,  so  that  the  streets  are  kept  clean.  The  windows  of  shops 
and  stores  on  the  better  streets  present  magnificent  displays. 
Some  ont-of-the  way  streets  are  horrible  beyond  (h  s -rii)tion. 
One  h)ok  down  them  will  l.)e  enough ; or  if  you  venture  into 
them,  it  will  not  be  )4_>ng  till  you  will  get  out  as  fast  as  j)ossi- 
ble,  with  eyes  and  nose  more  tl-an  half  closed.  I .diall  never 
forget  the  feelings  of  wonder,  horror,  and  disgust  ex}>erienced 
when  wandering  along  one  morning  I suddenly  found  my- 
self in  Billingsgate  Street  — the  great  fish-market  of  London. 
Men  and  women,  and  carts  and  boys,  and  fish, — .dimy  fish 
of  all  kinds  and  sizes, — yes,  worlds  of  fish, — and  the  dirtiest 
men  and  women  I ever  saw;  and  such  hallooing,  and  talking, 
and  swearing!  Now  I know  what  is  meant  by  billingsgate 
language.  There  are  many  benevolent  and  devout  persons 
who  are  doing  their  utmost,  by  personal  effort  and  through 
benevolent  institutions,  for  the  elevation  of  the  di.stricts  so 
destitute  of  the  gospel  and  other  blessings.  There  is,  })erhaii.'^, 
no  city  in  the  world  where  more  devout  and  determined  effort 
for  God  is  being  put  forth  than  here.  This  is  true  of  charita- 
ble, reformative,  temperance,  and  gosptd  work. 

London  was  once  a Roman  walled  city,  tin*  walls  of  which 
are  believed  to  have  been  built  by  the  Emperor  Con.><tantine. 
Old  ruins  of  the  Saxons  and  Normans  have  often  Ix'cai  di.'^eov- 
ered.  From  the  eighth  centtiry  the  history  of  tlie  city  niav 
be  traced  more  definitely,  l.ondon  has  indeed  been  made 
what  it  now  is  within  the  la.<t  century.  Its  strength  and 
]>opulation  have  doubled  in  the  last  fifty  years. 

The  House  of  Parliament,  with  old  Westminster  Hall,  forms 
an  immense  structure,  covering  an  area  of  eight  acres.  These 
buildings  were  erected  in  1840,  the  former  ones  having  been 
destroyed  by  fire  in  1834.  Its  cost  is  about  eighteen  million 
dollars.  It  has  three  towers  over  three  hundred  feet  high  — 
the  highest  being  the  Victoria  Tower,  wh’cli  mounts  uj)  to 
the  height  of  three  hundred  and  forty  feet.  The  clock  has 


PARLIAMEXT  BUILDING. 


89 


four  dials,  each  twenty-three  feet  in  diameter.  The  great  bell 
of  the  clock-tower  weighs  thirteen  tons,  being  one  of  the  larg- 
est ever  made.  The  front  of  the  building  toward  the  river 
Thames,  on  the  banks  of  which  it  really  stands,  the  foundation 
wall  being  the  river  embankment,  is  nine  hundred  and  forty 
feet.  The  structure  is  splendidly  adorned  with  es'ery  possible 
carving,  the  most  interesting  of  which  are  the  statues  of  the 


kings  and  queens  from  MTlliam  the  Conqueror  down  to  her 
majesty.  Queen  Victoria.  It  is  a matter  of  great  regret  that 
the  buildings  are  of  stone  which  already  is  yielding  to  the 
hand  of  decay. 


00 


SCOTLASD  AND  ENGLAND. 


The  first  ehamher  of  importance  entered  is  the  Queen’s 
Rohing-Rooni,  wliich  is  a handsome  chamber  forty-five  feet 
long.  Tlie  paintings  here  are  best  represented  in  the  three 
virtues, — Courti'sy,  (tenerosity,  and  Religion, — which  are  over 
the  fire-])laee.  The  Royal  Victoria  Gallery,  through  which 
the  (pieen  }>asses  as  slie  enters  the  House  of  Lords  to  open  or 
prorogue  parliament,  is  the  next.  To  this  floor  of  fine  mo- 
saic Avork,  surrounded  with  Avails  on  Avhich  are  the  paint- 
ings of  the  deatli  of  Nelson  at  Trafalgar  on  the  left,  and  the 
meeting  of  Blueher  and  Wellington  after  Waterloo,  royal 
j»ersons  are  invited  Avhen  the  queen  passes  through  in  solemn 
]n-oeession.  In  the  Prince’s  Chamber,  Avhich  comes  next,  and 
Avbieli  is  a model  of  beauty,  you  stand  at  once  in  front  of  a 
marble  group,  tlie  c(‘nter  of  Avbich  represents  Victoria  en- 
throned. All  around  the  room  are  paintings  of  the  kings 
and  qu(‘ens  and  tlieir  relatiA'cs,  from  Louis  XII.  to  Queen 
Elizabeth,  twenty-eight  in  all.  Among  the  most  striking  in 
innocent  l>eauty  are  Lady  Jane  Gray  and  her  hu.sl)and.  Lord 
CJuilford  Dudley.  Rut  as  the  eye  turns  to  the  riglit,  Avhat  a 
scene  is  that  ? Tln-re  beside  the  monster  form  of  Henry  VIII. 
are  tlie  jiortraits  of  Catharine  of  Aragon,  Anne  Boleyn,  Jane 
Seymour,  Anne  of  Ch'ves,  Catharine  IIoAvard,  and  Catharine 
Parr.  Henry.  Avhose  face  resenililes  the  appearance  of  the 
busts  of  Titus  and  Nero  for  brutality,  still  seems  to  scoavI  on 
Lady  Gray  and  her  youthful  martyred  husband.  From  this 
room  two  doors  lead  into  the  “Hou.se  of  Peers.”  Here  the 
lords  .sit  in  .session.  The  room  is  ninety-five  feet  long  and 
forty-five  feet  broad  and  higb.  It  has  emblematic  Avindows, 
and  the  Avails  are  sphmdidly  decorated.  The  benches  are  cov- 
ered Avitli  reel  leather,  and  furnish  sittings  for  four  hundred 
and  four  members.  Tavo  things  attract  attention  here  aboA'e 
all.  The  first  is  the  splendid,  gaudy,  golden  throne  of  her 
majesty  the  queen,  on  the  right  of  Avhich  is  the  throne  of  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  and  to  the  left  that  of  Prince  Albert.  Alas! 
he  sits  in  it  no  more.  These  are  coA’ered  Avith  a canopy  of  the 
most  splendid  gilding.  The  next  thing  attracting  curious 
notice  is  the  celebrateil  “ Avool-sack,”  on  Avhich  the  lord  chan- 


SIR  WALTER  RALEIGH. 


91 


cellor  sits.  It  is  a groat  big  cushioned  ottoman  near  the  center 
of  the  hoi;se,  six  or  eight  feet  square ; and  on  it  he  may  sit,  or 
lie  down,  as  it  would  seem.  Here  in  this  grand  and  august 
place,  business  is  tran.'^acted  ]>y  tlic  lords  of  England  ; and 
here,  too,  business  is  interfered  witli.  But  from  tins,  i)assing 
several  halls,  is  the  entrance  to  the  House  of  Commons.  It  is 
a plainer  and  smaller  room.  It  has  seats  for  four  hundred 
and  seventy-six,  while  the  House  really  numbers  si.x  bundred 
and  fifty-eight.  Some  are  expected  to  be  ab.sent.  Leaving 
these  chamhers  by  way  of  Central  Hall,  you  enter  one  of  the 
most  strikingly  historic  spots  in  England  — at  least  it  is  the 
most  historic  of  all  these  buildings  It  is  the  Westminster 
Hall.  It  has  several  times  been  destroyed  or  greatly  injured 
bj’  fire,  yet  dates  baek  six  hundred  years.  Here  the  early 
EnglLsh  parliament  was  often  held.  Here  Edward  II.,  who 
married  the  corrin)t  and  ambitious  daughter  of  Philij)  V.  of 
France,  Isabella,  was  declared  to  have  forfeited  the  crown. 
Here  Charles  I.  was  condemned  to  death.  Here,  in  16d3, 
Cromwell  was  saluted  as  lord  protector  of  England,  as  he  held 
the  scepter  royal  in  one  hand  and  the  Bible  in  the  other.  On 
the  i)innacle  of  this  hall,  le.=;s  than  eight  years  later,  his  head 
was  expo.sed  with  those  of  Bradshaw  and  Ireton  (his  body 
having  been  torn  from  its  tomb  in  Westminster  Abbey), 
and  here  it  remained,  according  to  history,  for  thirty  years. 
Within  these  old  walls  William  Wallace,  the  chainj)iou  of 
freedom  for  Scotland,  Lord  Cobham,  the  leader  of  tin*  Lol- 
lards, Sir  Thomas  Moore,  and  many  others  were  condemned 
to  die.  It  is  now  bald,  empty,  and  unattractive. 

A little  way  from  Westminster  Hall  is  St.  ^Margaret's 
Church,  built  by  Edward  I.  It  contains  the  tomli  of  Sir 
Walter  Raleigh,  the  navigator,  courtier,  commander,  and  au 
thor,  who  was  executed  near  it  in  1618.  Thirteen  y('ars  before 
his  death  he  had  been  convicted,  upon  insufficient  evidence, 
of  treasonable  complicity  with  Lord  Cobham  ; but  through 
public  sympathy,  his  own  heroism,  and  bribery,  he  secured 
his  escape  from  London  Tower.  The  sentence  of  death  re- 
maining upon  him,  he  at  last  on  returning  from  foreign  shores 


92 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


fell  its  victim,  in  October,  1G18.  During  his  imprisonment  in 
the  tover  he  wrote  to  his  wife  a touching  letter  in  view  of  his 
expected  death.  Near  its  conclusion  he  said,  “I  can  say  no 
more:  time  and  death  call  me  away.  The  everlasting  God, 
powerful,  infinite,  and  inscrutable,  God  Almighty,  who  is 
goodness  itself,  the  true  Hght  and  life,  keep  thee  and  thine, 
have  mercy  on  me,  and  send  us  to  meet  in  his  glorious  king- 
dom.” St.  Margaret's  is  the  present  preaching-place  of  Canon 
Farrar,  who  has  the  charge.  Several  of  these  chapels  are  con- 
nected with  Westminster  Abbey,  and  the  canons  who  preach 
in  them  also  preach  in  AVestminster. 


CHAPTER  V. 


Westminster  Abbey  — Its  Loeation— History— First  Impressions— Monu- 
mental Statues:  Pitt,  Wilberforee,  Wesley,  Livingstone,  and  others — 
Poets’  Corner — Tombs  of  Chaucer,  Shakespeare,  Campbell,  Milton,  and 
others — Through  the  T >mbs  of  the  Kings  and  Queens — Stanley — Cor- 
• onation-Chair  — Stone  of  Scone —Superstitious  Legend— Religious 
Services  — Jerusalem  Chamber. 


s^IRECTLY  west  of  the  House  of  Parliament,  and  only 
^ a little  distance  from  it,  is  Westminster  Abhey,  the 
most  impressive  and  in  many  respects  the  most 


'^^sacred  place  in  England,  where  are  in  solemn  and  awful 
grandeur  the  tombs  of  England’s  kings  and  queens  from 
the  first  down  to  Henry  VIII.  The  feelings  and  thoughts 
of  one  who  treads  these  solemn  corridors  and  aisles  for  the 
first  time  can  not  be  Avritten  or  uttered.  Here  one  stands  in 
England’s  “Temple  of  Fame.”  He  Avho  reveres  and  honors 
the  memory  of  those  whose  glory  crowns  the  pages  of  history, 
and  whose  fame  fills  the  Avorld,  treads  softly  and  reverently 
here.  Every  footfall  upon  the  stone  floor  seems  to  echo  the 
greatness  and  feebleness  of  those  over  whose  dust  you  pass. 

It  is  asserted  that  an  Anglo-Saxon  king  built  a church 
here  as  early  as  616.  It  Avas  destroyed  by  the  Danes,  and 
rebuilt  in  985  by  King  Edgar.  The  abbey  as  it  noAV  is  recog- 
nized Avas  established  by  EdAvard  the  Confessor  about  1050.  In 
the  thirteenth  century  it  was  again  rebuilt  substantially  as  it 
noAv  stands.  Like  all  the  cathedrals,  it  is  in  the  form  of  a 
cross.  Its  length  is  five  hundred  and  thirteen  feet,  and  the 
transept  tAvo  hundred  feet.  The  breadth  of  the  naA’e  is  seA’- 
enty-five  feet,  and  the  altar  transept  eighty  feet.  Its  height  is 
one  hundred  and  two  feet,  Avith  a toAver  tAvo  hundred  and  twen- 

93 


94 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


ty-fiv(‘  feet.  It  is  not  the  external  grandeur  of  the  abbey  that 
imi)resses  one,  however  splendid  that  may  he  eonsidered,  for 
in  this  res]>eet  it  is  not  e(|ual  to  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  nor  yet 
to  the  York  Minster,  in  the  old  eity  of  York,  in  York.diire. 


But  England  has  a history  the  most  intensely  interesting. 
What  ibime  is  to  the  Catholies,  and  almost  what  Palestine  is 
to  the  .lews,  England  is  to  a great  i)art  of  the  Prote.stant,  and 


MONUMENTAL  ST  A TUBS. 


95 


indeed  the  entire  civilized  world.  And  of  Westminster  Abbey 
it  may  be  said, 

“ This  is  where  the  end  of  earthly  things 
Lay  heroes,  patriots,  lords,  and  kings.” 

Tlie  history  of  England  is  crowded  with  the  deeds  of  valor,  and 
of  sliame  alike,  of  those  whose  stories  of  heroism  are  road  in  all 
lands  with  the  eagerness  of  a romance.  But  here  is  the  place 

“ Where,  towering  thought  to  human  pride. 

The  inight3-  chiefs  sleep  side  by  side.” 

Then,  too,  these  series  of  memory  tablets  and  monuments  to 
celebrated  men  add  a kiml  of  sacreilness  to  the  royal  burial- 
vaults.  Entering  at  the  north  transept,  your  eye  is  appalled 
with  the  statues  unnumbered  upon  which  it  rests.  At  the 
first  glance  it  looks  like  some  great  workshop  of  fairy  .sculpt- 
ors, where  the  work  of  ages  had  been  stored.  Looking  upon 
it  intently  for  a few  moments,  it  all  falls  into  solemn  order 
and  grandeur.  Near  you  is  first  and  most  strikingly  noticed 
the  large  statue  of  William  Pitt  (Lord  Chatham),  with  hosts 
of  others.  In  the  west  aisle  is  represented  in  marble,  half 
size,  Elizabeth  Warren,  the  widow  of  the  bishop  of  Bangor. 
It  represents  a poor  mother  sitting  Avith  a child  in  her  benevo- 
lent arms.  The  visitor  can  not  fail  to  be  struck  with  the 
marble  statue  of  William  Wilberforcc,  the  great  advocate  of 
the  emancipation  of  the  slaA’es.  lie  sits  Avith  knee  crossed 
and  the  hiAv  in  hand,  Avith  sharp  eyes  turning  leftAvard.  1 le 
Avas  born  in  Hull,  August  24th,  1759,  and  died  in  London, 
•luly  29th,  1833.  He  Avas  a member  of  the  House  of  Com- 
mons for  half  a century.  To  elotpience  and  talent  and 
benevolence  he  added  an  illustrious  Chri.stian  character.  He 
labored  for  men  tem})orally  and  spiritually.  He  bore  oblo(|uy, 
but  rose  to  illustrious  fome.  Near  by,  upon  a black  sarcopha- 
gus, is  the  reclining  figure  of  Sir  Isaac  NcAvton,  the  great 
philosopher’,  Avho  Avas  born  in  Lincolnshire,  December  25th, 
1642,  and  Avho  on  the  20th  of  March,  1727,  passed  out,  Ave 
trust,  to  farther  reachings  into  the  great  and  limitless  future. 
Farther  on  is  the  renoAvned  statesman,  William  Pitt,  in  statue, 
who  stands  speaking  to  History  at  his  right,  Avhile  to  the  left 


96 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


is  Anarchy  in  chains.  He  was  less  than  fifty  years  of  age 
when  he  died,  Jannary  23d,  1806.  On  the  south  side  of  the 
nave  is  a sarcophagus  monument  to  Major  John  Andre,  who 
was  executed  in  America,  Octo])er  2d,  1780.  Below  are  the 
figures  of  AVashington  rc(‘eiving  dispatches.  The  head  of 
Washington  has  three  times  Ix-en  broken  off  and  carried 
away,  while  that  of  AmlVe  has  alike  needed  to  be  replaced 
several  times.  A little  farther  on  is  a bust  of  Dr.  Isaac  Watts, 
the  famous  writer  of  hymns.  Below  the  author  is  in  effigy 
the  inspiring  mu.se.  Near  tliis  is  a pretty  marble  slab  with 
the  faces  of  the  two  Wesleys,  eontaining  also  the  inscription, 

“Jolm  Wesley,  born  June  17,  1703;  died  March  2,  1791.  Charles  Wes- 
ley, born  December  18,  1708;  died  March  29,  1788.”  “ The  best  of  all,  God 
is  with  ns.” 

There  is  l)elow  a figure  of  Wesley  preaching  to  assembled 
multitudes,  and  the  sentence,  “I  look  upon  all  the  world  as 
my  ]iarish.” 

“ God  Imries  his  workmen  but  carries  on  his  work.” 

In  the  center  of  the  nave  is  a slab  of  gray  marble  al)Out  seven 
by  four  feet  in  size,  over  which  you  tread  with  subdued  feel- 
ings, for  it  contains  this  inscription,  which  I carefully  copied : 
“Brought  by  faithful  hands  over  land  and  sea, 

HERE  RESTS 

DAVID  LIVINGSTONE, 

MISSIO.NARY, 

TRAVELER, 

PHIL  A NTHROPIST. 

Born  March  19,  1813, 

.\t  Blantyie,  Lanarkshire. 

Died  May,  1873, 

At  Chit.unbo's  \'illage,  Ulala. 

For  thirty  years  liis  life  was  spent  in  an 
unwearied  eflTirt  to  evangelize  the 
native  races. 

To  cxjilore  tlie  undiscovered  secrets. 

To  abolish  the  desolating  slave-trade  of 
Central  Africa, 

Where  with  his  last  words  he  wrote, 

“ All  I can  add  in  luv  solitude  is,  inav 
Heaven’s  rich  blessings  come  down  on 
any  one,  American.  Ensrlish,  or 
Turk,  who  will  help  to  heal 
this  open  sore  of 
the  world.” 


TOMBS  OF  THE  ILLUSTRIOUS. 


97 


Not  by  an}'  means  the  least  interesting  is  the  “ Poets’  Cor- 
ner/' the  southern  transept  of  the  abbey.  Here  the  loftiest 
geniuses  lie  buried  beneath  the  cold  stone,  above  which  art, 
with  its  chisel,  has  done  its  finest  and  most  eloquent  handi- 
work. Here  I found  myself  mingling  with  the  memories 
and  emotions  of  the  illustrious,  as  I looked  often  upon  the 
monuments  and  tombs  of  old  Chaucer,  the  poet  of  England 
nearly  five  hundred  years  ago;  of  Shakespeare;  of  Thomas 
Cami)l)ell,  Southey,  John  Gay,  AddLson,  John  IMilton,  Dick- 
ens, Dryden,  and  many  others  of  immortal  renown.  The 
statue  of  Shakesi)eare  presents  tlie  figure  of  the  poet  standing 
on  an  altar.  To  the  right,  under  his  arm,  are  a numl)er  of 
his  books,  while  a scroll  is  in  his  hand.  The  masks  of  Eliz- 
abetli,  Henry  V.,  and  Richard  III.  stand  on  the  pedestal. 
The  sc'roll  sus})ended  contains  the  following  appropriate  quo- 
tation : 

“ The  cloud-capped  towers, 

The  gorgeous  palaces, 

The  solemn  Temples, 

The  great  globe  itself,  j^ea, 
all  which  it  inherits, 
shall  dissolve, 

And  like  the  baseless 
fabric  of  a vision 
Leave  not  a wreck 
behind.” 

Near  the  monument  of  Sliakespeare,  who  was  born  about 
April  23d,  1564,  and  died  at  Stratford,  where  he  was  buried,  in 
1616,  just  fifty-two  years  old,  is  tlie  dust  of  Robert  Southey, 
born  August  12th,  1774,  and  died  March  21st,  1842,  while 
close  by  is  the  tribute  to  John  Gay  — a small  genius  holding 
the  medallion  with  the  irreverent  inscription,  shocking  one’s 
sensibilities  in  this  awful  place,  from  Gay’s  own  writings  — 

“ Life  is  a jest,  and  all  things  show  it; 

I thought  so  once,  but  now  I know  it.” 

Here,  also,  is  the  tomb  and  statue  of  Thomas  Campbell, 
author  of  “ The  Pleasures  of  Hope,”  who  was  born  at  Glasgow, 
1777,  and  died  in  1844,  at  about  the  age  of  sixt}'-seven  years. 
The  inscription  from  Campbell  is  very  beautiful — 

7 


98 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


“ This  spirit  shall  return  to  Him 
Who  gave  his  heavenly  spark ; 

Yet  think  not,  sun,  it  shall  be  dim 
When  thou  thyself  art  dark ; 

No,  it  shall  live  again  and  shine 
In  bliss  unknown  to  beams  of  thine, 

By  Him  recalled  to  breath 
W'ho  captive  led  captivity, 

Who  robbed  the  grave  of  victory 
And  took  the  sting  from  death.” 

But  T rlare  not  tresspass  further  upon  limited  spaee  to  revel 
in  these  memories  of  the  departed  poets,  for  here  is  the 
tomb  of  Dickens,  surrounded  by  those  of  Handel,  the  great 
music  - composer,  and  Sheridan,  and  Cumberland.  To  the 
home  where  throbs  tlie  loftiest  poetic  passion,  “ death  breaks 
in  at  last.”  What  stveeter  thoughts  were  here  if  the  assurance 
were  of  all,  as  of  some,  that  their  genius  finds  scope  and  sweep 
of  passion  .where  there  is  no  sin,  neither  sorrow. 

In  sepulchral  tones  a guide,  Avith  a long,  heavy  cloak  upon 
him,  calls  out,  “ The  guide  is  now  going  to  start  on  a journey 
through  the  sacred  tombs.”  You  pay  your  “sixpence”  and 
join  the  company  Avhich  saunters  sloAvly,  some  reverently  and 
some  curious!}",  through  the  chapels,  one  after  another,  Avhero 
sleeps  the  dead  dust  of  kings  and  queens.  These  are  gloomy 
and  doleful  divisions  of  the  abbey  embracing  the  east  end  or 
top  of  the  cross.  Some  of  these  chapels  have  as  many  as 
eighteen  or  tAventy  dead  depo.sited  in  them,  while  others  haA'e 
but  feAV.  In  the  Chapel  of  St.  Benedict,  near  the  entrance,  to 
the  left,  is  an  old  altar-decoration  of  the  fourteenth  century, 
beneath  Avhich  is  the  monument  of  the  Saxon  king,  Sebert, 
and  his  Avife  Athelgoda,  Avho  died  in  616.  Close  to  this  is  the 
tomb  of  Anne  of  Cle\'es,  the  fourth  Avife  of  Henry  VIII.  If 
she  Avent  to  heaA^en  it  is  not  probable  that  she  is  troubled 
Avith  him  noAV.  In  the  Chapel  of  St.  Edmund,  among  illus- 
trious tombs,  are  those  of  the  Duchess  of  Suffolk,  grand- 
daughter of  Henry  VII.,  and  mother  of  Lady  Jane  Grey, 
Lady  Jane  Seymour,  Lord  John  Russell,  and  Lady  Russell. 
These  tombs  are  all  mounted  Avith  splendid  figures  of  one 


TOMBS  OF  THE  KINGS  AND  QUEENS. 


99 


kind  or  another,  maii}'^  of  them  black  marble —statues  reclin- 
ing on  pedestals  of  alabaster.  Passing  through  the  Chapel  of 
St.  Nicholas,  one  of  the  most  crowded  with  costly  monuments, 
you  reach  the  Chapel  of  Henry  VII.  by  a flight  of  steps  of 
black  marble.  It  is  a place  of  awful  grandeur.  Nearly  one 
thousand  figures  and  statues  adorn  this  place,  erected  nearly 
four  hundred  years  ago.  The  carvdngs  are  elaborate',  and  the 
architecture  has  an  air  of  pomp  which  astounds  one.  The  first 
monument  which  strikes  the  eye  is  Lady  INIargaret  Douglas, 
who  has  been  asleej)  here  over  thi-eec  hundred  years,  with  her 
seven  children  kneeling  around  her  sarcophagus.  Here,  too, 
is  the  figure  of  Mary, Queen  of  Scots,  in  a recumbent  posture, 
praying.  She  was  beheaded  February  8th,  1587.  Her  remains 
are  below.  I have  looked  at  half  a dozen  splendid  paintings  of 
Elizabeth,  and  thought  of  her  long  imprisonment  and  sorrow 
in  London  Tower ; and  every  time  I have  so  done  the  thought 
has  come,  “ How  could  she  sign  the  death-warrant  of  Mary?” 
History  has  usually  accredited  her  with  so  doing.  In  the 
preface  to  the  English  edition  of  Strickland’s  History  of  the 
Queens  of  England  it  is  as.serted  that  she  did  not  sign  the 
warrant,  Init  luw  signature  was  forged  by  a private  secretary 
of  Walsingliam,  at  the  instigation  of  Burleigh,  Walsingham, 
and  Davidson.  I hope  this  is  true  — not  for  the  .shame  it  casts 
upon  others,  hut  lor  the  relief  to  the  name  of  Elizabeth  and 
its  explanation  of  her  otherwise  unaccountable  conduct.  The 
editors  of  the  American  edition  have  embodied  this  state- 
ment in  the  text  of  the  book,  hut  by  wliat  authority  I do 
not  know.  Here,  too,  with  others  of  royal  birth,  are  buried 
Charles  II.,  M^illiam  HI.,  and  Queen  Mary, his  wife,  and  Queen 
Anne  and  her  consort.  Prince  George  of  Denmark.  Here  is 
the  vault  containing  Henry  VII.  and  his  wife  Elizabeth,  and 
James  I.  Close  by  are  the  resting-jdaces  of  George  II.  and 
Edward  VI.  Near  l)y  my  eyes  rested  upon  some  fresh,  beau- 
tiful flowers  lying  upon  a tomb,  in  a pretty,  bright  spot.  Not 
least  beloved  nor  narrowlj",  there  is  where  they  had  just 
buried  the  good  Dean  Stanley,  beside  his  wife.  Lady  Au- 
gusta. I had  hoped  to  hear  him  from  the  pulpit  during  my 


100 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


staj'  in  London.  But  ala.s!  he  has  a different  puljut.  He  lies 
down  there  as  still  as  Dr.  Dill,  the  first*  dean  under  Elizabeth, 
who  has  been  dead  more  than  three  hundred  years.  He  had  a 
broad  catholic  heart  as  Avell  as  a noble  intellect.  He  gave  the 
world  witness  that  he  loved  God  and  the  race.  God  testified 
that  his  faith  and  life  were  accepted,  “and  he  being  dead, 
yet  speaketh.”  In  the  northern  aisle  of  this  chapel  the  monu- 
ment of  Queen  Elizabeth,  in  an  horizontal  position,  sleeps 
on  the  sarcophagus,  near  her  predecessor  and  sister  Mary. 
Not  far  away  lies  the  consort  of  James  I., — Anne.  Here  are 
the  buried  bones  of  Edward  V.  and  his  brother,  the  sons  of 
Edward  IV.,  both  of  whom  were  murdered  in  the  tower  by 
their  uncle,  Richard  III.  Alas!  for  royalty.  In  the  Chapel  of 
St.  Paul  lies  Thomas  Bromley,  the  lord  chancellor  under  Eliz- 
abeth, who  presided  at  the  court  which  condemned  Mary, 
Queen  of  Scots,  and  who  has  been  laid  away  two  hundred 
and  ninety-four  years;  and  there  James  Watt,  tvhose  name  is 
fixed  in  history  with  the  steam-engine,  was  buried  in  1819; 
and  many  others  lie  beside  them.  The  Chapel  of  Edward  the 
Confessor  dates  back  to  1066,  and  is  itossessed  of  much  real 
interest.  Here  is  a recumbent  bronze  effigy  of  Henry  III., 
with  an  artistic  monument  of  mosaic  and  porph}n-y ; also  a 
metal  effigy  of  Eleanor,  of  Castile,  wife  of  Edward  I.,  who  died 
in  1290.  Also,  here  is  a recumbent  figure  of  Henry  V.,  who 
was  buried  in  1422,  except  that  the  solid  silver  head  is  lack- 
ing, having  been  stolen  off  during  the  reign  of  Henry  VII. 
Here  are  the  remains  of  Shakespeare’s  “ beautiful  Kate,” 
Katharine  of  Valois,  wife  of  Henry  V. ; of  Phillipa,  wife  of 
Edward  III.,  the  relatives  of  no  less  than  thirty  crowned 
heads ; Edward  III.,  and  of  Richard  II.,  murdered  in  1399,  on 
St.  Valentine’s  day. 

From  this  w'alk  among  the  tombs  of  illustrious  kings  and 
Queens  whose  history  reads  to  us  wild  as  romance  but  here 
appears  sad  as  a death-knell,  I must  turn  aside  to  describe 
some  curious  old  chairs  which  stood  in  this  chapel.  The  one 
is  the  coronation -chair  made  for  Queen  Mary,  wife  of  William 
III.  The  other  rude  old  chair,  with  a great  stone  under  its 

J 


RELIGIOUS  SERVICES. 


101 


seat,  is  the  old  Scottish  coronation-cliair,  dating  hack  to  1272. 
The  large,  oblong -square  stone  under  the  seat  was  brought  to 
London  by  Edward  I.  from  Scotland,  in  1297.  Tradition 
holds  it  to  he  the  identical  stone  which  Jacob  had  for  a i)illow, 
and  set  uj)  for  a j)illar  at  Bethel.  This  stone  was  held  among 
the  Scots  to  he  the  emblem  of  j)ower  in  connection  with  its 
traditional  history.  Of  course,  to  the  stone  there  hangs  a tale. 
Jeremiah  went  down  to  Egy])t;  of  course  he  did.  He  took 
the  stone  with  him.  Then  lie  left  Egypt  with  the  stone  and 
was  sliipwrecked  somewhere  otf  the  coast  of  Ireland.  One 
Avho  aecompanied  him  was  soon  married  to  the  daughter  of  a 
great  chief  in  Ireland,  and  to  him  Jeremiah  gave  the  stone, 
Avith  the  promise  that  as  long  as  he  kept  it  he  should  he  the 
strongest  chief  in  Ireland.  At  a time  of  Avar  the  Scots  con- 
(piered  him  and  took  the  stone,  and  so  it  came  to  England  to 
Westminster  Abbey.  And  in  a kind  of  patronage  to  this 
superstitious  legend,  Avhen  the  Prinee  of  Wales  is  made  king  of 
England  tlu'y  Avill  cover  this  old  stone  Avith  gold  and  set  him 
on  it  for  his  coronation ; for  let  it  he  remembered  that  from 
1297,  eA’ery  reigning  English  monarch  has  been  croAvned  in 
this  chair  Avith  this  huge  ugly  stone  of  Scone  under  it.  On 
coronation  occasious  it  is  covered  Avith  brocade  of  gold,  and 
taken  into  the  chancel  of  the  abbey. 

There  are  other  chapels  Avhere  are  buried  dukes,  earls,  admi- 
rals, and  lords,  and  Avomen  and  men  of  illu.strious  ftime. 
Among  them  is  the  grave  of  Mrs.  Scott  Siddons. 

I attended  religious  services  in  the  abbey  several  times. 
After  listening  to  these  services,  one  can  appreciate  the  SAveet- 
ness  of  the  poet  Avho  sings  of  the  place 

“ Where  through  the  long  drawn  aisles  and  fretted  vaults, 

The  pealing  anthems  .sound  the  notes  of  praise.” 

The  SAveet,  tender  strains  of  music  from  the  trained  choir 
and  the  mellotv  voice  of  the  reader  seem  yet  to  fall  on  my  ear. 
Outside  of  these  old  cathedrals,  there  is  no  such  music  on  the 
globe. 

Upon  one  occasion  I heard  Canon  DuckAvorth  ])reach  upon 
Christian  Lenity,  a discourse  as  broad  and  catholic  as  any 


102 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


minister  would  preach  in  a non-conformist  church  in  England 
or  in  any  orthodox  pulpit  in  America.  And  why  not  ? for 
the  whole  congregation  sung  those  precious  words  of  Wesley, 

“ Jesus,  lover  of  my  soul.” 

There  is  a tone  of  deep  spiritual  devotion  and  reverent  piety 
here.  Although  the  sfirroundings  are  such  as  to  produce 
peculiar  sensations  hr  one  worshiping  here  for  the  first  time, 
yet  even  a stranger  feels  at  home.  It  came  like  a balm  to  the 
anxious  hearts  of  Americans  when  the  director  of  the  services, 
in  repeating  prayers  for  the  afflicted,  kindly  put  in  the  name 
of  our  suffering  President  Garfield,  in  special  prayer.  The 
newly-appointed  dean  is  a low-churchman.  The  appointment 
. was  made  hy  her  majesty  the  queen,  quite  against  the  wishes 
of  the  premier,  Gladstone,  who  wanted  Dean  Lidden,  of  St. 
Paul,  a high-churchman,  appointed. 

Jerusalem  Chamber, in  the  south-west  portion  of  the  grounds 
and  adjoining  the  abbey,  is  a quaint  old  room,  with  several 
plain  tables  in  the  center,  while  its  walls  are  frescoed  with 
striking  pictures.  One  represents  the  death  of  Henry  IV., 
who  died  within  its  walls,  and  another  the  coronation  of 
Queen  Victoria.  Busts  of  several  kings  are  here.  The  room 
was  built  as  early  as  1386.  The  death  of  Henry  IV.  and  the 
painting  recall  the  words  of  Shakespeare  in  Scene  IV.,  Act 
iv..  Part  ii.,  King  Henry  IV. : 

“ Henry.  Doih  any  name  particularly  belong  unto  the  lodgiug  where 
I first  did  swoon  ? 

“ Warwick.  ‘ Tis  call’d  Jeru.salem,  my  noble  lord, 

“Henry.  Laud  be  to  God!— even  there  my  life  must  end, 

It  hath  been  prophesied  to  me  many  years, 

I should  not  die  but  in  Jerusalem, 

Wliich  vainly  I suppos’d  the  Holy  Land — 

But,  bear  me  to  that  chamber;  there  I’ll  lie: 

In  that  Jerusalem  shall  Harry  die.” 

It  has  its  name  in  all  probability  from  certain  pictures  of 
the  history  of  Jerusalem  upon  tapestries  hung  in  the  chamber. 
It  was  here  that  the  divines  met  from  week  to  week  in  the 
work  of  producing  the  late  Revised  Version  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment. 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


103 


I have  given  a short  chapter  to  these  walls,  so  eloquent  with 
the  voices  of  the  dead  and  with  the  power  of  genius,  piety, 
and  devotion  to  the  interests  of  the  race,  and  the  faded  glory 
of  kings  and  queens;  and  to  these  aisles,  so  mighty  in  their 
testimony  to  the  power  of  the  King  of  Terrors,  who  brushes 
the  crown  from  the  brow  of  every  monarch,  and  plucks  the 
diadem  from  every  prince  at  last,  and  remands  back  to  the  dust 
the  king  and  the  beggar  alike.  Paths  of  glory  lead  but  to  the 
grave. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Travel  in  London  — Hansoms — Railways  — Tramways — The  Thames  — 
Lambeth  Palace — Prison  of  Wycliffe — Blackfriars  Bridge  and  Mon- 
astery—Divorce  of  Henry  VIII.  from  Catherine  of  Aragon  by  Wolsey 
and  Campeggio  — London  Tower  — Crown-Jewels  — Tow’er  Green  — 
Saddest  Spot  on  the-Globe — Beheading  of  Lady  Grey  and  Anne  Bo- 
leyn  — St.  Paul’s  Cathedral  — An  Incident — Whispering  Gallery  — 
Hyde  Park  — Museums — Spurgeon  — Rowland  Hill’s  Chapel  — New- 
man Hall. 


I 


OXDOX  lias  the  best  facilities  for  travel  of  any  city  in 
world.  There  are  the  “ hansoms  ” and  the  coaches 
which  rnn  everywhere,  and  can  be  hailed  at  an}' 
ui\j  place  in  the  city.  The  hansom,  named  after  its 
,k  inventor,  is  a two- wheeled  coach,  with  a toj)  somewhat 
j similar  in  appearance  to  onr  falling-toj)  buggies.  The  to]i, 
however,  is  stationary  and  strong,  so  that  a good-sized  trunk 
and  valise  may  be  lodged  ujitm  it  in  travel.  The  front  closes 
with  doors  over  the  knees,  and  the  driver  sits  up  behind, 
(juite  above  the  rider's  head.  It  accommodates  two  persons 
liesides  the  driver.  Then  there  are  the  busses,  which  run 
every  minute;  and  some  are  going  to  any  place  you  desire  to 
reach.  The  fare  is  cheap  — only  a penny  or  three-pence  for  a 
long  ride.  They  are  allowed  by  law  to  carry  twelve  persons 
inside  and  fourteen  outside.  I always  rode  on  toji,  outside. 
In  this  a gentleman  has  the  advantage  of  a lady,  for  he  can 
more  easily  climb  up  the  crooked,  narrow  st(>})s  at  the  en- 
trance to  the  top.  Then,  a new  institution  in  the  city  is  the 
street-cars,  which  are  in  the  form  of  cars,  but  run  without  a 
track.  These  are  very  pleasant  and  comfortable.  Then 
there  are  the  “ tram-cars,”  which  are  simply  our  American 

street-cars,  onlv  thev  have  a second  story.  These  run  in 

104 


PRISOX  OF  WYCLIFFE. 


105 


the  sixburban  parts  of  the  city.  To  these  add  the  iMetropol- 
itan  railroad,  -wbicb  is  the  fleetest  method  of  travel, — for  it 
is  a railway  traversing  the  circumference  of  the  great  city 
entirely  under  ground,  with  stations  every  little  Avay  apart, 
— and  cars  running  every  three  or  five  minutes,  and  you 
have  some  idea  of  the  progress  one  can  make  traveling  here. 
If  one  does  not  prefer  any  one  of  these  ixiethods,  he  can  walk 
with  this  comfortable  assurance,  that  however  he  may  get 
lost  or  travel  out  of  the  way,  there  is  no  danger  of  getting  out 
of  the  reach  of  the  city  police.  Some  one  has  wittily  said 
that  he  had  a sense  of  insecurity  while  in  England,  as  the 
island  is  so  small  that  he  feared  lest  he  should  get  up  some 
morning,  and  in  taking  a walk,  might  walk  otf  into  the  water 
before  knowing  it.  One  would  not  experience  such  a sensation 
on  foot  in  London.  There  is  always  something  of  a tremen- 
dous city  farther  on.  In  going  from  one  end  of  the  city  to  the 
other,  a pleasant  way  is  to  take  a boat  on  the  Thames,  which 
courses  its  way  through  the  entire  length  of  the  city.  The 
river  banks  are  built  up  with  great  walls  and  buttresses  on 
both  sides,  upon  which  are  walks  and  luiildings  and  monu- 
ments. The  wonderful  parliament  building  has  the  founda- 
tion of  one  of  its  sides  in  the  wall  of  the  river.  Some  distance 
below  or  above  (it  depends  on  Avhich  way  the  tide  is  moving) 
stands  the  Egyptian  obelisk,  lirought  from  Alexandria  some 
years  ago,  the  companion  to  which  stands  in  Central  Park, 
Nexv  York.  On  the  right  of  the  Thames,  nearly  opposite  the 
parliament  building,  is  Lambeth  Palace,  to  wdiich  the  eye 
turns  with  no  little  interest.  For  more  than  six  hundred 
years  it  has  been  the  residence  of  the  archlxishops  of  Canter- 
bury. Here  is  an  old  chapel,  built  in  1245,  Ixy  Archbishop 
Boniface,  which  is  in  the  old  English  style.  The  dismal-look- 
ing tower  at  the  west  end  of  the  chapel  once  was  the  prison- 
place,  and  the  scene  of  the  torture  of  the  Lollards,  the  followers 
of  WyclifFe.  In  the  upper  part  of  the  tower  is  a room  twelve 
by  thirteen  and  a half  feet,  and  eight  feet  high,  in  which  are 
yet  to  be  seen  the  marks  and  inscriptions  of  these  poor  pris- 
oners for  Christ’s  sake ; and  here  are  eight  large  rings  fastened 


106 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


in  the  wall,  to  which  the  heretics  were  chained.  Wycliflfe  was 
some  time  confined  here,  as  were  the  Earl  of  Essex,  Sir  Thomas 
Armstrong,  and  the  poet  Lovelace.  If  that  old  frowning 
toAver  could  speak  to  us  as  one  sails  under  its  shadoAV  on  the 
Thames,  Avhat  a story  of  sorroAV  it  Avould  tell.  The  St.  Thomas 
and  Bethlehem  hospitals  close  by  are  vast  institutions.  The 
grounds  of  the  archbishop  are  large,  and  splendidly  adorned. 
There  are,  I should  think,  at  least  from  sixteen  to  tAventy 
bridges  OA’er  the  Thames,  besides  a tunnel  under  the  river. 
The  trains  run  under  the  river  through  this  tunnel. 

In  sailing  up  and  doAvn  the  riA'er  tlie  boat  passes  under 
Blackfriars  Bridge,  a A'ast  and  poAA'erful  iron  structure,  one 
thousand,  tAA'o  hundred  and  seventy-tAA'o  feet  long  and  eighty 
feet  broad,  costing  one  million  six  luindred  thousand  dollars. 
Its  name  ])erpetuates  the  memory  of  an  ancient  monastery, 
which  once  .stood  on  the  river  hank  near  by,  in  AA'hich  parlia- 
ment sometimes  met,  and  AA'hich  AA'as  built  over  six  liundred 
years  ago.  In  it  Wolsey  and  Campeggio  pronounced  the  sen- 
tence divorcing  the  unfortunate  Catherine  of  Aragon,  mother 
of  Queen  Mary,  from  Henry  VIII.,  in  1529.  Here  Shakespeare 
once  resided  and  acted  in  a theater  three  hundred  years  ago. 
But  he  has  long  since  gone  upon  another  stage. 

A little  way  doAvn  the  river  from  London  bridge  stands  the 
London  ToAA’er,  around  AA'hich  there  gather  sadder  memories 
than  any  other  spot  on  the  soil  of  England.  If  Westminster 
collects  the  glorious  memories,  this  toAA'er  inherits  tlie  sorroAV- 
ful.  If  those  esteemed  great  in  tlieir  day  sleep  in  the  former 
})lace,  some  aa'Iio  are  uoav  the  more  esteemed  for  their  pains  lie 
buried  hert*.  It  is  an  irregular  cluster  of  gloomy,  antiquated 
hAiildincs,  covering  thirteen  acres.  It  is  on  the  bank  of  tbe 
Tbames,  and  ])resents  none  of  tbe  inspiring  ai)pearances  pos- 
sessed by  most  of  the  renoAvned  jdaces  of  the  Old  World.  I 
]>assed  one  day  Avithin  its  aAA'ful  inclosure,  and  looked  on  its 
treasures,  and  reflected  i;pon  its  memories,  feeling  something 
of  the  dark  shadoAVS  of  the  past  enshrouding  its  gloomy  dAA'ell- 
ings.  It  has  been  a fortress  and  a palace,  tbe  scene  of  tbe 
most  brilliant  marriage  - feasts  and  the  darkest,  murderous 


CROW:^- JEWELS. 


107 


deeds,  both  t)f  which  gave  joy  to  proud  and  brutal,  if  not 
devilisli  monarchs.  There  is  not  space  to  record  the  events 
which  have  transpired  here  during  the  eight  hundred  years 
in  which  its  gloomy  walls  have  thrust  their  frowns  upon  the 
Tlianies.  But  who  that  looks  on  these  places  can  ever  forget 
them  ? Here  to  the  right  is  the  “ Traitor’s  Gate,”  opening  to 
the  Thames,  in  which  royal  prisoners  of  olden  time  came  from 
the  boats  to  exchange  tlieir  royalty  and  freedom  for  shame 
and  lone  confinement  in  gloomy  chambers,  surrounded  by 
cold,  dreary,  stone  walls.  Here,  as  one  ascends  the  narrow, 
Avinding  steps  of  the  fort  of  the  Chapel  of  St  Jolin,  just  to 
the  right  is  the  little  niclie  where  the  bodies  of  Edward  V. 
and  his  brother  Avere  found  after  tlieir  murder  by  their  uncle, 
Richard  III.  Their  crime  Avas,  being  youthful  princes  Tlie 
jilace  caused  me  to  shudder;  for  I had  just  passed  under  the 
bell-toAver  in  Avhich  the  youthful  Elizabeth  was  long  confined, 
and  Avhere  her  life  hung  in  the  balances.  I went  uj)  and  doAvn 
through  the  great  armory,  Avhere  are  the  coats  of  arms  Avorn 
by  the  kings  of  England  hundreds  of  years  ago  — a museum 
antiquated  and  curious.  But  to  an  American  it  is  an  e'mnt  to 
look  at  the  croAvn-jeAvels,  Avhich  are  kept  in  the  toAver.  They 
are  all  inclosed  in  several  cases  of  glass,  one  inside  of  another. 
The  first  and  the  highest  in  a kind  of  pyramid  of  crowns  is 
the  imperial  state-croAvn  of  her  majesty, Queen  Victoria.  The 
cap  of  purple  velvet  in  hoops  of  silver  is  surmounted  by  a ball 
and  a c'ross,  resplendent  Avith  tAvo  thousand, seven  hundred  and 
eighty-two  diamonds.  Here  is  also  the  croAvn  of  Prince  Al- 
bert. Hoav  little  it  is  Avorth  to  him  noAV,  though  it  is  of 
pure  gold,  set  Avith  costly  jeAvels.  Here  too  are  other  croAvns, 
such  as  that  of  St.  EdAvard,  made  for  the  coronation  of  Charles 
II.,  and  used  in  many  subsequent  coronations.  Here,  too, 
are  roval  scepters  of  gold,  made  doubly  rich  Avith  diamonds. 
They  differ  in  length  from  tAvo  and  one  half  feet  to  four  and 
one  half  feet.  The  total  value  of  these  croAvns,  scepters,  and 
entire  regalia  is  three  million  pounds,  or  fifteen  million  dol- 
lars. 

Passing  from  these  several  toAvers,  Avhich  are  aAvfully  elo- 


108 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 

$ 


quent  with  the  cry  of  horrid  deeds,  you  stand  in  Tower  Green. 
To  the  north  is  the  Chapel  of  St.  Peter,  where  in  peace  rest 
tlie  ashes  of  the  beloved  Lady  Jane  Grey,  with  those  of  many 
other  less  exalted,  but  not  less  worthy  martyrs.  “There  is  of  a 
truth  no  sadder  spot  on  earth  than  this  little  cemetery,'’  .^^ays 
.Macaulay.  And  why  not.‘^o? — for  here  are  the  graves  of  the 
martyred  Sir  Thomas  More,  the  jjhilosopher  and  statesman, 
beheaded  July  6th,  1535 ; Queen  Anne  Boleyn,  beheaded  Mav, 
1536;  Thomas  Cromwell,  beheaded  July,  1540;  (^ueen  Cath- 
erine Howard,  who  met  the  same  death,  Februaiw,  1542;  and 
lords  and  dukes  whose  names  I can  not  recall,  whose  sad 
end  tells  the  story  of  the  shortness  and  uncertainty  of  fame. 
These  tombs  of  murdered  queens  tell  us  of  the  falseness  of 
human  hearts,  once  charmed  by  love  and  beauty.  Standing 
in  the  Green  looking  eastward,  just  in  front,  is  the  window 
out  of  which  Lady  Jane  Grey  in  1554  looked  at  her  husband, 
the  youthful  Lord  Guilford  Dudley,  as  he  Avas  led  out  to 
ToAver  Hill  to  be  murdered,  on  the  same  day  in  Avhich  she 
passed  under  the  scaffold  into  eternal  rest.  Xear  the  center 
of  the  Green  is  a broAvn  stone  about  tAvo  and  one  half  feet 
scpiare,  in  the  pavement,  AA'ith  a brass  tablet  set  in  it  contain- 
ing these  Avords : “Site  of  Ancient  Scaffold.'’  On  this  si)ot 
La<ly  Grey  Avas  lAeheadcd,  and  here  (^ueen  Anne  Boleyn 
years  before  also  had  her  heatl  seA'cred  from  her  laxly  on 
the  19th  of  May,  1536.  In  the  armory  I laid  my  hand  on 
the  old  block  on  Avhich  her  neck  rested  Avhen  the  heavy  ax 
fell  on  it  from  the  hands  of  the  executioner.  IMiat  a change 
three  short  years  can  make!  On  the  29th  of  May,  1533,  just 
three  years  l)efore,  she  Avas  receiA’ed  as  the  beautiful  Anne 
Boleyn,  queen  of  Henry  VIII.,  amid  the  grandest  pageantry 
the  palace  ever  saAV.  But  only  three  years  have  ]»assed  Avhen 
she  is  deserted  by  the  king,  inq>risoned  in  the  toAver,  sAim- 
moned  before  her  uncle,  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  charged  Avith 
infidelity  to  her  a’ows  and  pronounced  guilty,  to  apj)ease 
the  spirit  of  the  vilest  Avretch  that  ever  cursed  a throne.  The 
historian  tells  us  that  the  sentence  Avas  received  Avith  (pieenly 
modesty,  and  that  lifting  her  eyes  and  hands  toAvard  heaven 


ST.  PAUL’S  CATHEDRAL. 


109 


she  exclaimed,  “O  Father!  0 Creator!  thou  art  the  way,  the 
truth,  and  the  life.  Thou  knowest  I have  not  deserved  this 
death.”  Surely  God  pities  the  past,  and  will  forbid  that  his- 
tory ever  repeat  itself. 

Xo  one  thinks  of  spending  many  days  in  London  without  a 
visit  to  St.  Paul's  Cathedral,  which  is,  iiext  to  We.stminster 
Abbey,  the  most  interesting  place  of  worship  in  England.  Of 
course  the  architectural  grandeur  of  St.  Paul’s  greatly  excels. 

It  is  the  third  larg- 
est cathedral  in  the 
world — those  of  Mi- 
lan and  St.  Peter’s 
at  Pome  only  excel- 
ling it.  It  has  been 
claimed  that  a hea- 
then t(‘mplo  once 
stood  on  this  spot. 
It  is  evident  that  the 
Christians  in  the 
time  of  Con.stantine 
had  a church  here. 
The  building  was 
restored  on  these 
grounds  in  610,  961, 
1087, 1315, 1445  ; but 
in  1561  it  fell  under 
the  jircy  of  devour- 
ing flames.  Puins  of 
these  buildings  haA’e 
been  discovered  at! 
different  times.  The  iiresent  structure,  according  to  the  de- 
sign of  Christopher  Wren,  was  begun  in  1675,  and  completed 
in  1710.  Its  cost  is  put  at  three  million  seven  hundred  and' 
thirty-nine  thousand  seven  hundred  and  seventy  dollars.  It 
is  in  the  form  of  a Latin  cross.  The  nave  is  five  hundred  feet 
long  and  one  hundred  and  eighteen  feet  wide,  and  the  tran- 
sept is  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet  long.  The  distance  from 


110 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


the  pavement  to  the  top  of  the  cross,  which  is  mounted 
above  the  dome,  is  four  hundred  and  four  feet.  The  ball  and 
cross  on  the  dome  together  weigh  eight  thousand,  nine  hun- 
dred and  sixty  pounds.  The  external  structure  as  Avell  as 
the  con.struetion  and  adornment  of  the  various  parts  within 
are  quite  beyond  description.  The  nave  and  transept  are  tilled 
at  their  sides  with  many  monuments,  memory  tablets,  and 
splendid  statues,  — perhaps  nearly  a hundred  in  all.  Arthur 
Wellesley  (Duke  of  Wellington),  Lord  Nelson,  and  other  illus- 
trious heroes  repose  in  the  crypt  and  vaults  of  this  cathedral. 
In  the  interior  of  the  cupola,  two  hundred  and  .sixty  steps 
from  the  pavement,  is  what  is  called  the  whis2;)ering  gallery, 
from  a remarkable  echo  or  jjrolongation  of  the  voice  by  the 
circular  Avail. 

A number  of  persons  Avere  seated  on  one  side  of  the  gallery 
close  to  the  wall,  Avhile  a AvhisjAered  utterance  on  the  other 
side,  just  straight  from  us  a distance  of  one  hundred  and 
eight  feet,  or  by  the  concaA’e  circumference  one  hundred  and 
sixty  feet,  AA'as  heard  as  distinctly  as  though  uttered  Avithin  a 
pace  of  us.  From  this  jioint  the  best  A'ieAv  is  had  of  the 
ceiling -jAaintings  of  Thornhill.  Here  the  celebrated  artist, 
intently  engaged  in  jAroducing  his  ideal  painting,  uncon- 
sciou.sly  stood  on  the  edge  of  the  scaffolding  and  AA’as  about  to 
l)e  jArecipitated  hAindreds  of  feet  below,  Avhen  an  artist  stand- 
ing near  struck  AA’ith  a bru.sh  the  jAainting  on  the  A\’all,  Avhich 
instantly  caused  the  master  to  leap  fonvard  and  out  of  danger. 
A AA’ord  to  him  reA’ealing  his  danger  Avould  haA’e  thrust  him 
doAvn.  A bold  stroke  rescued  him.  How  often  Ave  are  influ- 
enced most  mightily  by  indirect  causes,  we  can  hot  tell. 

I should  delight  in  these  jAages  to  giA  AA’ith  the  reader  again 
to  the  great  museums  of  London,  South  Kensington,  the  Lrit- 
ish  Mu.seum,  and  others,  Avhere  1 i)assed  AA’hole  days  amid  tlic 
most  Avonderful  collections  of  antiquity  and  art,  gatlieretl 
from  all  parts  of  the  AA’orld.  It  AA’ould  be  interesting  to  vi.-it 
again  Guild  Hall,  AA’here  the  dijAlomatists  of  foreign  nations 
are  received  in  splendor;  and  Hyde  Park,  Avith  the  elaborate 
memorial  of  good  Prince  Albert,  costing  a loAung  ]ieojAle  six 


SPl  liGEOX. 


Ill 


Imnclred  thousand  dollars,  and  glittering  and  sparkling  like 
gold  amid  a sheet  of  tire;  and  the  National  Gallery  and  Hamp- 
ton Court  and  Windsor  Castle  — the  royal  and  splendid  resi- 
denee  of  the  queen.  But  I must  turn  from  these  to  another — 
the  living  monument  of  this  Christian  age,  which  stands 
higher  than  St.  Paul’s  Church. 

Every  American  coming  to  London  wants  to  hear  the  great- 
est preacher  in  the  world ; and  although  Drs.  Parker,  Hall, 
Farrar,  and  many  others  are  here,  i)re-eminently  above  all  is 
the  world’s  jireacher,  Rev.  Charles  H.  Si)urgeon,  who  for  a 
quarter  of  a century  has  been  looked  upon  as  the  mo.'^t  illus- 
trious man  of  the  age.  I shared  in  the  anxiety  to  hear  him; 
for  indeed  I had  long  cherished  a high  rc'gard  for  his  work, 
and  himself  as  well.  His  church,  called  a tabernacle,  is  a 
vast,  plain,  simple  structure,  built  for  the  accommodation 
of  the  people.  Its  architect  was  Mr.  W.  W.  Pocock,  a Meth- 
odist local  preacher.  It  is  one  hundred  and  thirty-six  feet 
long.  It  has  four  aisles  below,  three  rows  of  seats,  and  two 
galleries  running  entirely  around  the  house.  The  puljiit  is 
on  a level  with  the  lower  gallery,  and  is  reached  by  an  aisle 
in  the  gallery  directly  in  the  rear  coming  from  the  vestry. 
The  building  seats  about  six  thousand  people.  To  get  in,  one 
must  go  early.  Doing  .so,  he  is  admitted  to  seats  fastened  to 
the  benches  in  the  aisles  or  in  the  side  aisles,  where  strangers 
wait  until  all  those  who  have  rented  pews  are  in.  Five  min- 
utes before  the  services  commence,  you  hear  the  loud  claps  of  a 
man’s  hands.  Then  all  seats  unoccupied  are  free  — sit  where- 
ever  you  can  find  a seat  and  the  people  invite  you  into  the 
pews.  It  is  a warm  church,  and  the  stranger  has  a welcome  to 
all  the  room  there  is.  The  seats  are  plainly  paneled,  but  have 
no  scrolls  upon  them.  There  is  no  choir,  no  organ ; but  a ]u-e- 
centor,  who  stands  at  Mr.  Spurgeon’s  side  and  leads  the  sing- 
ing. Just  at  the  hour,  Mr.  Spurgeon  enters  the  door  at  the 
rear  of  the  gallery  and  comes  slightly  limping  down  to  the 
large  rostrum,  surrounded  by  a plain  hand-railing,  and  on 
which  are  several  desks  and  tables.  He  has  a round,  strong, 
heavy  body, — I should  think  weighing  nearly  two  hundred 
and  fifty  pounds  — a rather  full,  rough  face,  with  a full  fore- 


112 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


head,  over  •which  stands  his  hair  on  end.  You  are  all  curios- 
ity to  know  what  he  will  do  first,  and  how  he  will  do  it. 
Suddenly  he  rises  from  the  chair  where  he  has  been  seated  for 
a moment,  and  advancing  to  the  railing  beside  a desk  or  table, 
you  hear  a strange,  mellow,  and  far-feaching  voice  say,  “ Let 
us  worship  God  in  prayer.”  lie  has  presented  only  one  or 
two  ])etitions  bel'ore  the  'Lord  until  you  feel  that  you  are 
standing  at  the  very  gate  of  mercy  and  love  and  he  is  asking 
a great  blessing  Ju-sf  for  you!  The  short  i>rayer  ended,  he 
says,  “ Let  us  sing,”  and  reads  a full  stanza,  “ 0 Love  divine, 
how  sweet  thou  art.”  He  reads  a full  stanza  each  time,  when 
the  congregation  all  join  in  singing.  He  sings  himself.  Such 
a sweet  volume  of  song  it  was  never  my  joy  to  hear  in  the 
house  of  God.  He  then  reads  the  scripture  and  comments  on 
each  verse,  taking  up  not  less  than  ten  or  twelve  minutes  in 
the  scripture-lesson.  What  a sermon  there  is  in  this  com- 
ment! And  every  word  seems  to  weigh  a pound,  and  reaches 
the  ear  of  all  the  thousand.s.  This  is  followed  l)y  an  extended 
pra}'er.  It  is  like  a great  heart,  a dozen  hearts  all  in  one, 
talking  with  God.  His  prayer  covers  the  highest  and  deepest 
wants  of  the  human  soul  and  reaches  the  broadest  scope  of 
human  need  in  the  various  conditions  of  the  race.  After 
prayer  another  h3'inn  is  sung.  During  the  singing  of  one 
service  I attended,  Mr.  Si)urgcon  called  out  after  the  second 
stanza  had  been  sung,  “Quicken  the  strain  veiy  much;” 
and  they  quickened  the  strain.  Among  the  announcements 
there  made  one  Sabbath  morning  was  the  request  that  on 
next  Lord’s-da}'  evening  all  the  pew-renters  would  stay  away 
and  allow  the  strangers  to  come,  and  the  sinners. 

I asked  the  gentleman  who  had  kindh'  taken  me  into  his 
pew  if  the  members  would  all  stay  at  home  as  requested? 
“Certainly  so,  sir ; and  the  six  thousand  seats  will  be  filled, 
and  hundreds,  at  least,  go  away  unable  to  gain  admittance.” 

“ Is  he  eloquent?  Is  he  an  orator?”  you  ask.  He  is  not  a 
finished  orator  as  Mf.  Beecher  is,  or  as  many  others  are ; yet 
he  is  a master  in  oratory.  There  is  a soul  in  him,  a power  of 
love,  a power  of  God,  which  fastens  him  on  the  heart  forever. 
He  thinks  by  great  strides,  and  makes  you  walk  with  him. 


J\^jE:inL4.V  HALL. 


113 


He  reasons  so  that  you  can  not  resist  his  words.  He  tells  you 
what  you  know  is  true  just  as  he  says  it;  and  you  can  not 
deny  it.  He  is  after  souls,  and  you  feel  like  going  with  him 
in  the  chase.  He  does  nothing  for  show.  He  has  a deep  hu- 
mility which  makes  you  bow  before  the  Lord.  It  was  my 
])rivilege  to  hear  him  twice.  The  evening  service  was  fol- 
lowed by  communion,  to  which  all  Christians  were  invited, 
and  in  which  iwecious  exercise  and  ordinance  not  less  than 
three  thousand  five  hundred  persons  participated.  The  preach- 
ing is  but  a small  part  of  the  vast  work  done  by  this  man  of 
God.  He  is  now  often  ill,  having  suppressed  gout,  from  which 
he  suffers  at  times  greatly.  His  wife  has  been  an  invalid  for 
twenty  years  or  more.  A son,  Charles,  is  j:)astor  of  a church 
a little  out  of  London,  and  is  spoken  of  as  an  elorprent 
preacher,  hut  without  his  father’s  heart  and  soul  - power, 
though  he  inherits  much  of  his  father’s  fame. 

Among  the  places  of  much  interest  to  all  Christians  is  old 
Surry  Chapel,  where  the  celebi-ated  Rowland  Hill,  William 
Jay,  the  boy-preacher  at  Surry,  and  others  of  renown,  u.sed  to 
preach.  The  church  is  no  longer  used  for  church-services, 
and  is  soon  to  be  torn  down.  I went  into  the  old  home  of 
Rowland  Hill  just  beside  the  church,  and  saw  his  study. 
The  home  is  now  occupied  by  a Wesleyan  Methodist  minister. 
Almost  in  the  center  of  the  church,  from  beneath  the  spot 
where  the  pulpit  formerly  stood,  was  the  opening  in  the  floor 
where  some  months  before  they  took  uj)  the  body  of  Mr.  Hill, 
.quite  before  it  was  light  in  the  morning  so  as  to  avoid  the 
crowd,  and  removed  it  to  where  it  now  rests  beneath  the  Lin- 
coln Memorial  Tower,  which  forms  a part  of  the  splendid 
church  of  Newman  Hall,  the  latest  preacher  at  Surry,  but 
who  now  has  a magnificent  church  recently  built.  He  is  a 
giant  in  the  gospel,  and  aims  at  the  conversion  of  the  people. 
His  tall  form  is  used  to  every  inch  as  he  pleads  with  men  to 
accept  Christ  now.  While  his  church  is  not  nearly  so  large, 
though  much  finer,  and  his  congregation  less  enthusiastic 
than  Spurgeon’s,  he  nevertheless  exerts  a powerful  influence 
in  this  city ; and  most  Americans  visiting  London  are  wont 
to  hear  him.  s 


CHAPTER  VII. 


Ecumenical  Conference  — Churches  Represented — United  Brethren  in  the 
Conference  — Opening  Service— Entertainments— Lord  Mayor  of  Lon- 
don — Order  of  Exercises  — Results  of  the  Conference. 


chapter  must  be  devoted  to  the  Methodist  Ecu- 
- menical  Conference,  which  assembled  in  City  Road 
Chapel,  London,  AVednesday,  September  7th,  1881, 
'at  10:00  a.m.,  and  continued  thirteen  days.  Xot  only 
have  the  American  bodies  represented  been  interested 
in  this  assembly,  but,  indeed,  all  Protestant  Christen- 
dom had  for  several  years  looked  forward  to  it  Avith  deep 
interest. 

To  give  some  idea  of  this  assembly,  and  hoAv  far  it  may 
justly  claim  to  be  ecumenical,  it  may  be  necessary  to  name 
the  bodies  represented,  and  the  number  of  representatives 
present.  From  east  of  the  Atlantic : Wesleyan  Methodist, 

eighty -six;  Irish  Methodist,  ten;  Methodist  New  Connec- 
tion, twelve;  Primitive  Methodist,  thirty -six;  Bible  Chris- 
tian, ten;  United  Methodist,  tAventy-two;  "Wesleyan  Reform 
Union,  four;  United  Free  Gospel,  tAvo;  French  Methodist, 
tAA’O;  Australian  Methodist,  sixteen — making  a total  of  tAVo 
hundred.  From  Avest  of  the  Atlantic : Methodist  Episcopal 

Church,  eighty;  Method%t  Episcopal  Church  South,  thirty- 
eight;  Methodist  Protestant,  six;  Evangelical  Association, 
two;  United  Brethren  in  Christ,  tAvo;  American  Wesleyan, 
tAA’o;  Free  Methodist,  tAvo;  Primitive  Methodist  Church  in 
the  United  States,  tAvo;  Independent  Methodist,  tAvo;  Con- 
gregational Methodist,  tAvo;  African  Methodist  Episcopal, 
tAvelve ; African  Methodist  Episcopal  Zion,  ten ; Colored 

114 


UNITED  BRETHREN  IN  THE  CONFERENCE.  115 


Methodist  Episcopal  Church  of  America,  six;  Methodist 
Church  of  Cauada,  twelve;  Methodist  Episcoixil  of  Canada, 
four;  Primitive  Methodist  of  Canada,  two;  Canada  Bible 
Christian,  one  — making  a total  of  one  hundred  and  eighty- 
five,  and  a grand  total  of  members  of  the  conference  of  three 
hundred  and  eighty -five  picked  men  of  God;  every  one  of 
them  chosen  men  of  valor,  who  can  draw  well  the  gospel  bow. 

It  may  serve  the  interests  of  future  history  to  state  here  the 
circumstances  and  the  conditions  upon  which  the  United 
Brethren  in  Christ  became  represented  in  this  great  body. 
The  General  Conference  which  met  in  Westfield,  Illinois, 
May,  1877,  declined  an  invitation  to  join  in  the  conference. 
Four  years  later,  at  the  General  Conference  held  at  Lisbon, 
Iowa,  May,  1881,  the  question  was  referred  to  a committee 
consisting  of  E.  B.  Kephart,  N.  Castle,  J.  Weaver,  L.  Davis, 
and  J.  W.  Hott.  That  committee  reported  and  recom- 
mended the  adoption  of  the  following  paper,  which  was  in- 
dorsed by  the  conference : 

Upon  the  answer  of  Bishop  Weaver,  on  behalf  of  the  United  Brethren 
in  Christ,  to  the  Executive  Committee  of  the  Ecumenical  Conference 
declining  to  accept  an  invitation  to  join  in  the  Ecumenical  Conference  in 
London,  on  the  grounds  that  we  are  not  a Methodist  bodj',  said  commit- 
tee reported  to  the  General  Conference  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church, 
held  last  May,  that  though  our  church  was  not  nominally  Methodistic, 
yet,  being  substantially  such,  it  was  hoped  that  we  would  yet  participate 
in  the  proposed  conierence. 

The  Executive  Committee  (American  section)  in  January  last  resolved 
that  six  remaining  delegates  be  allowed  to  the  United  Brethren  in  Christ 
should  they  conclude  to  join  the  council.  In  considering  this  question 
we  believe  the  following  to  be  worthy  of  adoption : 

First.  The  United  Brethren  in  Christ  is  not  nominally,  or  in  any 
organic  sense,  a Methodist  body. 

Second.  In  religion,  doctrine,  experience,  and  methods  of  ecclesiastical 
work,  as  well  as  in  church-polity,  we  more  nearly  resemble  the  group  of 
churches  uniting  in  this  council  than  any  other  we  could  hope  to  find  a 
classification  with  in  a great  ecumenical  conference.  And  inasmuch  as 
this  Ecumenical  Conference  is  not  legislative,  as  to  doctrine,  church- 
polity,  or  church-organization,  we  recommend  that  there  be  appointed 
two  delegates,  with  a like  number  of  alternates,  to  represent  us  in  that 
great  council. 


116 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


The  bishops  appointed  Rev.  H.  A.  Thomj^son,  D.  D.,  and 
Rev.  J.  W.  Hott,  to  attend  this  Ecumenical  Conference.  Of 
the  historic  place  of  the  assembling  of  this  conference,  an- 
other chapter  must  s])eak. 

City  Road  Chapel  has  a seating  capacity  of  about  one 
thousand  two  hundred.  Admi.s.sion  to  the  exerci.ses  was 
upon  tickets  issued  to  the  members  of  the  conference;  and 
these  tickets  were  in  great  demand.  This  was  especially  true 
for  the  Oldening  session. 

To  Rev.  Dr.  G.  Osborn,  president  of  the  British  Wesleyan 
Methodist  Conference,  a venerable  preacher  in  England,  was 
given  the  honor  of  opening  the  services  of  this  august  gath- 
ering. This  was  done  in  the  use  of  the  Ejriscopal  service, 
which  occupied  nearly  an  hour.  Americans  wished  that 
some  more  simple  and  special  order  of  service  had  been 
adopted.  They  could  not  participate  in  tlie  exercises  to  any 
considerable  extent  from  two  causes.  First,  they  were  not 
familiar  with  it,  and  did  not  know  how,  where,  or  when  to 
join  in ; secondly,  they  did  not  believe  in  this  method  of  wor- 
shiping God — at  least  for  Methodists.  They  felt  this  especially 
when,  two  or  three  times,  prayers  were  read  during  the  serv- 
ice for  “Queen  Victoria  and  the  Prince  of  Wales,  and  all  the 
royal  family,”  etc.,  but  for  the  rulers  of  no  other  land  — not 
even  for  the  suffering  President  of  our  own  afflicted  nation. 
John  Wesley’s  mistake,  like  that  of  Luther,  was  in  not  cut- 
ting clear  from  the  dead-weights  which  he  carried  out  of  the 
church  whence  he  came;  and  this  was  a mistake  at  the  open- 
ing of  the  Ecumenical  Conference,  however  well  intended  or 
devoutly  participated  in  by  those  who  conducted  it.  The 
Wesleyan  Methodists  of  England  use  the  liturgy  in  their  reg- 
ular service. 

Bishop  Jlatthew  Simpson,  D.  D.,  LL.  D.,  of  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church,  preached  the  opening  sermon,  from  the 
text,  “ The  words  that  I speak  unto  you,  they  are  spirit,  and 
they  are  life.”  (John  vi.  63.)  He  showed  that  the  Avords  of 
Christ  reveal  the  spiritual  and  eternal ; that  they  are  attended 
by  an  unseen  spiritual  power  which  gives  them  spirit  and 


ENTER  TAINMENTS. 


117 


life.  He  then  proceeded  to  discuss  the  elements  combined  in 
the  great  revival  under  the  Wesleys,  and  the  peculiarities  of 
the  organized  movement  in  the  Methodist  churches  — showing 
how  and  why  it  was  evident  that  the  word  of  (tod  had  been 
the  spirit  and  life  of  this  great  evangelizing  force.  He  closed 
with  an  earnest  exhortation  to  the  churches  to  renew  their 
vows  of  allegiance  to  Christ.  The  bishop  is  not  profound;  yet 
he  is  thoughtful.  He  does  not  possess  a stirring  and  flashy  el- 
oquence ; yet  his  words  have  a simplicity,  beauty,  artlessness, 
and  fervor  w'hich  have  cau.sed  him  long  to  stand  at  the  head 
of  Methodist  pulpit-orators.  He  is  tall  and  commanding  in 
per-son,  though  stooped  by  age,  and  has  a clean,  smooth,  deli- 
cate, yet  strong  face.  His  voice  is  clear  and  musical,  though 
almost  as  fine  as  that  of  a woman.  He  makes  no  effort  at 
oratory,  but  so  talks  as  to  interest  and  touch  the  hearts  of  the 
people.  His  sermon  here  was  worthy  of  the  occasion,  and  of 
his  enviable  record  of  usefulness,  eloquence,  and  piety  made 
through  the  years  past.  Soon  after  the  close  of  the  sermon, 
which  occupied  an  hour  and  a half  in  delivery,  the  dele- 
gates united  in  celebrating  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord’s 
supper. 

Revs.  G.  Bond,  J.  S.  Withington,  A.  C.  George,  and  Dr. 
Sutherland  were  elected  secretaries.  Dr.  Osborn  delivered  the 
address  of  welcome,  and  Bishop  McTyeire  and  Bishop  Warren 
and  Rev.  George  Douglas  responded.  The  Religious  Tract 
Society  of  London  gave  a splendid  breakfast  the  second  day, 
at  8 : 00  a.  m.,  at  Exeter  Hall.  The  society  always  transacts 
its  business  at  the  rooms  on  Paternoster  (our  father)  Row, 
during  breakfast.  Here  the  American  delegates  learned  how 
it  is  done.  Dr.  AVhite,  the  secretary,  read  the  letters  and  re- 
ports for  the  week,  from  a pulpit,  while  the  company  break- 
fasted, and  managed  to  complete  his  part  in  time.  Thus  do 
the  English  mix  breakfast  and  business.  I must  also  men- 
tion the  splendid  reception  at  the  Mansion  House,  by  the  lord 
mayor  of  London,  on  the  evening  of  the  same  day.  The 
entire  conference,  with  many  other  ministers  and  ladies,  were 
invited,  making  a company  in  all  of  seven  or  eight  hundred 


118 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


guests.  The  state  apartments  were  brilliantly  lighted  and 
decorated  for  the  occasion.  The  splendid  Egyptian  Hall, 
after  the  reception  and  formal  presentation  of  each  guest,  was 
made  the  scene  of  such  a business  as  never  before  was  trans- 
acted there.  The  lord  mayor  was  greeted  with  great  warmth 
and  applause.  His  address  of  welcome  for  warmth  and  intelli- 
gent view  of  tlie  gospel-work  of  the  churches  whose  represent- 
atives were  being  entertained  could  not  have  been  excelled. 
After  responsive  addresses,  refreshments  and  supper  were 
.served  in  the  Long  Parlor.  The  lord  mayor,  Hon.  William 
McArthur,  M.  P.,  is,  I believe,  the  son  of  a Methodist  preacher, 
and  Avas  a member  of  the  Ecumenical  Conference.  He  is  a 
large-bodied,  large-hearted,  noble  specimen  of  manhood,  whose 
pleasant  face  shows  that  Avhile  he  had  the  faculty  and  oppor- 
tunity of  making  these  representatives  of  churches  which 
cover  the  globe  happy,  he  Avas  himself  the  happiest  of  the 
liaj)py.  Hundreds  of  hearts  Avish  him,  Avhen  done  with  Lon- 
don, to  be  “ruler  over  ten  cities”  in  the  celestial  Avorld. 

Other  entertainments  and  great  meetings  in  the  interest  of 
moral  reform  Avere  held  at  various  times  during  the  confer- 
ence, in  various  churches  and  in  Exeter  Hall.  On  the  Sab- 
baths about  tAvo  hundred  preachers  Avere  employed  preaching 
in  Auirious  parts  of  the  great  city. 

The  sessions  of  the  conference  opened  at  10 : 00  A.  M.  and  at 
2:30  P.  M.,  Avith  a recess  of  an  hour  and  a half  for  lunch, 
Avhich  Avas  furnished  gratuitously  to  the  members  of  the  con- 
ference at  rooms  near  the  church. 

The  order  of  exercises  Avas  placed  in  the  hands  of  a com- 
mittee, Avho  arranged  for  a presiding  officer  for  each  day’s  ses- 
sions. Bishop  Peck  presided  at  the  first  regular  business 
session,  and  thereafter  the  selections  Avere  made  from  the  east- 
ern and  Avestern  sections  alternately.  The  speakers  also  alter- 
nated from  the  eastern  and  Avestern  sections.  When  a speaker 
from  the  eastern  section  addressed  the  conference  upon  any 
leading  topic  he  Avas  folloAved  by  an  invited  speaker  from  the 
Avestern  section,  and  vice  versa.  No  person  addressing  the 
conference  in  the  leading  programme-address  was  allowed  to 


ORDER  OF  EXERCISES. 


119 


proceed  longer  than  twenty  minutes,  nor  any  invited  speaker 
following  longer  than  ten  minutes.  After  these  two  addresses 
Avere  given  on  any  topic  it  then  passed  to  the  conference,  and 
thirty  minutes  were  allowed  for  its  discussion,  in  which  any 
member  might  participate,  but  not  to  exceed  five  minutes  in 
a speech,  and  not  to  speak  more  than  once  on  any  topic. 

The  discussion  as  arranged  by  the  Executive  Committee 
took  in  a wide  range  of  subjects,  embracing  every  phase  of 
the  progress,  development,  and  agencies  of  the  various  branches 
of  the  Methodist  Church.  The  addresses  were  full  of  profound 
thought;  and  thoroughness  of  investigation  was  the  aim  of 
most  of  the  speakers.  Only  a feAV  aimed  at  display.  The 
colored  members  of  the  conference  were  given  prominence 
on  the  programme,  and  some  of  them  justly  Avon  high  esteem. 

The  rigid  rules  limiting  to  so  short  a time  all  the  speakers, 
Avhich  Avere  at  the  opening  felt  by  some  to  be  too  unyielding, 
Avere  soon  fully  A'indicated.  About  one  third  of  the  members 
of  the  conference  did  the  speaking,  another  third  tried  faith- 
fully to  get  the  floor  but  failed,  and  another  third  bore  in  quiet 
tlie  speeches  they  would  rather  have  made  themselves.  With 
the  limit  to  tAventy  minutes  upon  all  the  leading  speeches, 
and  ten  minutes  to  the  invited  speakers,  and  five  to  the  others, 
if  no  one  should  have  spoken  tAvice  during  the  conference, 
only  about  tAVO  thirds  of  the  members  could  have  been  heard 
during  the  business  sessions  of  tAveh^e  days. 

Among  the  most  frequent  and  influential  speakers  on  the 
floor  of  the  conference  Avere  Bishop  Simpson  of  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church,  E.  E.  Jenkins  of  the  British  Wesleyan,  J. 
M.  Reed  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  Bishop  Peck  of 
the  same  church,  W.  Arthur,  author  of  the  “Tongue  of  Fire,” 
Bishop  McTyeire  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  South, 
Dr.  J.  B.  McFerrin  of  the  same  church,  Mr.  S.  D.  Waddy  of 
England,  Dr.  Buckley  of  NeAV  York,  and  Dr.  J.  P.  Newman. 
Probably  more  than  one  half  of  the  members  of  the  confer- 
ence were  not  heard  at  all  in  that  assembly  except  by  their 
A'ote.  The  effort  Avas  often  faithfully  made  by  those  who 
entirely  failed  to  be  heard  before  the  dozen  others  who  also 


120 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


claimed  the  ear  of  the  president.  Many  were  contented  to 
let  others  do  the  talking. 

The  last  subject  discussed  during  the  first  week  was,  “ The 
Training  of  Children  in  the  Sunday-school  and  Church,  so  as 
to  Secure  the  Largest  Evangelical  Denominational  Results,” 
by  Dr.  H.  A.  Thompson  of  the  United  Brethren  Church.  It 
is  only  justice  to  say  that  it  was  one  of  the  best  productions 
given  to  the  conference.  It  had  the  excellences  of  real  ability, 
treatment  of  the  subject  directly  in  hand,  and  of  being  so 
delivered  as  to  be  heard  by  all,  the  latter  of  which  could  not  be 
said  of  all  the  speeches  and  addresses.  It  was  received  with 
universal  favor,  and  conimanded  the  respect  and  honor  of  all 
for  our  church. 

The  London  Methodist  Recorder,  which  published  the  daily 
proceedings  of  the  conference  in  full,  the  day  following  the 
address  referred  to  above,  under  the  title  “ United  Brethren,” 
contained  the  following  article: 

“The  address  of  Rev.  II.  A.  Thompson,  D.  D.,  upon  the  training  of 
children  in  the  Sunday-school  and  church  so  as  to  secure  the  largest  evan- 
gelical denominational  results,  in  last  Saturday’s  session  of  the  confer- 
ence, calls  to  notice  a denomination  whose  relation  to  the  great  body  of 
Methodism  is  somewhat  interesting  and  peculiar.  Although  its  name  is 
not  Methodist,  and  its  founders  and  early  ministers  were  not  members  of 
the  Methodist  Church,  yet  such  are  the  religious  exi>eriences,  the  doc- 
trines, and  the  government  of  this  body  that  it  is  eminently  fitting  that 
it  should  be  among  the  representative  sons  of  Wesle3'.  Its  founder,  Rev. 
Philip  William  Otterbein,  was  educated  for  the  ministry  of  the  Reformed 
Church  in  Germany  ; but  as  a missionary  in  America,  having  experienced 
regeneration  and  saving  grace,  his  preaching,  and  its  results,  soon  drew 
around  him  in  Pennsj’lvania  and  Maryland  such  spirits  as  witnessed  for 
the  saving  power  of  the  blood  of  Christ.  The  first  independent  church 
was  organized  in  Baltimore,  in  1774.  The  efforts  of  Otterbein,  Boehm,  and 
of  other  early  laborers  were  confined  to  the  German  language  and  Ger- 
man people  for  the  first  half-century.  The  growth  of  the  Church  during 
this  period  was  slow.  The  relations  of  Bishop  Francis  Asbury  and  Bishop 
Otterbein  were  for  many  years  the  most  intimate.  These  men  were  often 
in  counsel  respecting  tlie  formation  and  organization  of  evangelizing 
forces  for  the  New  World.  At  the  ordination  of  Bishop  Asbury  by  Dr. 
Coke,  at  the  request  of  Mr.  Asbury,  Mr.  Otterbein  assisted  in  that  solemn 
setting  apart  of  the  American  Wesley.  For  many  years  the  rules  of  the 
Methodist  Episcopal  Church  were  so  suspended  as  to  allow  the  United 


RESULTS  OF  THE  CONFERENCE. 


121 


Brethren  to  attend  the  Methodist  class-meetings,  while  the  pulpits  and 
churches  of  each  denomination  were  open  to  the  ministers  of  the  other. 
The  government  of  the  United  Brethren  is  a modified  episcopacy.  It  has 
classes,  quarter^-,  annual,  and  general  conferences.  The  General  Confer- 
ence is  held  quadrennially,  and  is  constituted  of  ministers  who  are  elected 
by  the  members  of  the  entire  Church,  each  annual  conference  being  en- 
titled to  not  less  than  two  nor  more  than  four  delegates,  according  to  the 
number  of  the  membership  of  the  conference.  The  bishops  and  general 
officers  ot  ihe  church  are  elected  every  four  years,  but  are  often  re- 
elected. The  presiding  elders  are  elected  by  the  preachers  in  the  annual 
conference.  The  preachers  are  stationed  by  the  bishop,  presiding  elders, 
and  an  equal  number  of  local  ministers,  chosen  by  the  conference.  Among 
the  peculiarities  of  the  United  Brethren  from  the  beginning  have  been 
strong  opposition  to  intemperance,  to  slavery,  and  to  secret  societies.  It 
is  active  in  missionary  and  educational  work,  and  furnishes  from  its  pub- 
lishing house  at  Dayton,  Ohio,  a full  line  of  church  and  Sunday-school 
literature.  The  able  address  of  Dr.  Thotnpson,  the  president  of  Otterbein 
University,  at  Westerville,  Ohio,  well  represents  the  activity  of  that 
church  in  the  Sunday-school  work,  its  Sunday-school  membership  quite 
exceeding  the  membership  of  the  Church,  which  has  rapidly  increased  in 
the  last  few  years,  now  numbering  about  one  hundred  and  sixty  thou- 
sand.” 

Now  and  then  persons  appeared  with  special  and  peculiar 
ideas  which  could  not  meet  with  broad  indorsement  j but  it  is 
worthy  of  statement  here,  that  for  the  great  part  the  words 
■were  practical  and  such  as  tvould  be  expected  from  those  pos- 
sessing a holy  ambition  to  carry  the  gospel  to  the  ends  of  the 
earth. 

It  is  not  -within  the  province  of  this  short  chapter  to  give 
a summary  of  the  utterances  of  this  great  gathering  which 
marks  a new  era  in  the  churches  of  Christendom  holding  the 
Arminian  doctrines  as  taught  by  Wesley,  and  his  associates 
and  followers.  This  gathering  will  be  followed  by  others  of 
no  less  interest.  Still,  the  assembling  of  these  delegates  from 
all  parts  of  the  world,  representing  the  different  branches  of 
a great  body  which  only  came  into  being  a little  more  than  a 
century  ago,  and  now  counts  its  numbers  by  millions,  is  a fact 
in  ecclesiastical  history  which  will  be  treasured  in  the  cen- 
turies to  come.  A growth  so  marvelous  is  hardly  to  be  found 
elsewhere  in  the  history  of  the  world.  Nor  w'as  the  Ecumeni- 
cal Conference  the  assembling  of  representatives  of  churches 


122 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


which  have  reached  their  zenith  of  power  and  usefulness. 
The  conference  did  not  meet  to  ascertain  what  to  do  with  the 
laurels  won.  Indeed,  while  there  were  at  times  utterances 
Avhich  seemed  like  boasting,  it  is  safe  to  say  that  the  same 
aggressiveness  was  manifested  there  that  has  been  character- 
istic of  those  various  bodies  in  the  past  in  the  work  accom- 
jdished.  The  triumphs  of  the  gosjjel  in  their  hands  never 
were  more  signal  than  now,  and  the  desire  to  increase  them 
a thousand-fold  never  so  intense. 

The  range  of  topics  for  discussion  was  too  wide  to  admit  of 
thoroughness  of  investigation  on  many  subjects  of  vital  im- 
portance. Sometimes  this  necessitated  only  a partial  or  im- 
perfect discussion  of  questions  raised;  sometimes  imperfect 
and  one-sided  facts  only  could  be  brought  forward. 

If  I should  criticise  the  utterances  and  general  scope  of 
the  Ecumenical  Conference,  it  Avould  be  to  say  that  there 
was  too  much  disposition  to  parade  the  name  of  John  Wesley 
and  the  achievements  of  his  life  and  system,  and  not  enough 
to  honor  its  spirit  and  to  ascertain  how  the  churches  could 
maintain  the  religious  life  and  moral  and  reformatory  power 
which  he  possessed,  and  which  he  breathed  into  the  church 
he  founded.  The  Methodist  churches  can  not  live  on  through 
the  future  years  as  great  evangelizing  agencies  upon  the  name 
of  John  Wesley  or  “ Methodism,’’  but  by  tbe  possession  of 
the  divine  S})irit  and  power  they  have  possessed  in  the  past. 

The  results  of  this  conference  must  be  salutary  upon  all 
tbe  bodies  represented  in  it.  The  churches  of  England  must 
have  had  gross  misunderstandings  and  erroneous  notions  re- 
specting the  practices  and  customs  and  character  of  the  Amer- 
ican churches.  These  will  be  destroyed  or  at  least  greatly 
modified.  On  the  other  hand,  the  American  churches  have 
never  understood  the  peculiar  condition  of  societ}'  and  church 
efforts  in  England  and  other  eastern  countries.  In  the  future 
there  will  be  a better  understanding,  higher  appreciation,  and 
stronger  sympathy  between  the  various  branches  of  the  Meth- 
odist churches  on  the  two  continents.  There  will  be  ecclesias- 
tical free-trade.  Religious  sympathies  and  fraternity  will  grow. 


RESULTS  OF  THE  CONFERENCE. 


123 


This  Ecumenical  Conference  will  result  in  a better  feeling 
and  stronger  relations  between  the  larger  and  smaller  denom- 
inations represented  in  this  gathering.  This  is  greatly  to  be 
desired  both  in  England  and  in  America.  There  has  not 
existed  that  cordial  and  Christian  brotherhood  between  the 
larger  and  smaller  bodies  of  the  Methodist  persuasion  in  En- 
gland that  would  have  most  honored  God.  It  will  hardly  be 
claimed  that  the  Christian  feeling  has  always  been  exce.ssive 
even  between  the  larger  Methodist  bodies  in  tbe  United 
States.  Then,  sometimes  the  feeling  of  some  of  the  larger 
bodies  toward  the  smaller  Iras  been  akin  to  that  possessed  by 
the  whale  toward  Jonah.  This  is  passing  away. 

In  the  future  years  the  larger  churches  will  jrossess  a more 
general  knowledge  of  the  origin  and  history  of  the  smaller 
churches  represented  in  the  Ecumenical  Conference.  The 
cause  of  their  existence,  the  peculiarities  of  their  govern- 
ment, and  the  principles  of  moral  reform  held  by  them  will 
be  more  highlj'  honored.  The  reasons  for  their  having  toiled 
and  struggled  to  build  up  tbeir  own  institutions  will  be  more 
apparent.  The  larger  bodies  of  the  Methodists  will  appreci- 
ate the  principles  and  methods  of  ecclesiastical  government 
possessed  by  the  smaller  bodies,  though  they  may  not  approve 
them.  In  this  way  the  smaller  bodies  will  in  tul'ii  exert  no 
narrow  or  trivial  influence  upon  the  larger. 

It  is  not  out  of  the  possibilities  of  the  future  that  tliis  first 
Methodist  Ecumenical  Conference  may  result  in  closer  and 
even  organic  union  of  some  of  the  smaller  bodies  which  were 
represented  in  it.  There  are  such  as  could  doubtless  be  more 
effective  against  the  powers  of  darkness  if  such  relations  ex- 
isted. Between  some  there  seem  to  be  but  few  barriers  to 
such  union.  Nor  is  it  to  be  considered  outside  of  the  remote 
results  of  the  conference  that  a better  understanding  should 
be  had  respecting  the  colored  Methodist  churches  of  America. 
The  relation  of  these  people  will  be  changed  as  it  respects 
their  several  bodies  and  the  churches  in  the  South  composed 
of  the  w'hite  population. 

Whatever  may  be  our  opinions,  the  facts  are  apparent  to 


124 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


all  that  Protestantism  is  destined  to  unite  more  and  more  its 
forces  in  extending  the  gospel  of  Christ  to  the  uttermost  hab- 
itations of  men.  The  ideas  and  feelings  which  controlled  the 
Protestant  sects  in  their  formation  have  become  quiescent  in 
a broader  biblical  interpretation ; and  may  we  not  hope  in 
a better  Christlikeness.  From  heart  to  heart  through  the 
throng  of  millions,  a tender  cord  of  sympathy  vibrates  at  the 
common  toil  to  rescue  this  old  sin-cursed  world  from  the 
j)Owers  of  hell,  and  bring  its  islands  and  continents  to  blos- 
som as  flowers  in  one  paradise,  welcoming  the  return  of  our 
absent  Lord. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


London  from  the  Parliament  Tower — Sinithfield  — City  Road  Chapel  — 
Grave  of  Wesley — Benson  — Watson  — Clarke — Newton  — Bunhill 
Fields  — Susannah  Wesley  — Tomb  of  Border — Owen  — Watts — De 
Foe  — Bun j’au  — A Reverie. 

HERE  are  many  places  and  points  of  interest  which 
I liave  not  had  time  to  write  about,  and  much  of  sor- 
rowful  association  and  sinful  misery  which  I would 
' not  spread  l)efore  the  reader.  During  my  stay  in  Lon- 
y don,  protected  by  those  who  were  competent  and  kind 
enough  for.  security  every  way,  I saw  the  gloomy  shades 
and  miserable  griefs  which  haunt  the  wicked,  it  may  be,  and 
where  these  dwell  in  their  poverty,  shame,  dirt,  and  sin.  And 
the  eyes  also  were  thus  permitted  to  look  somewdiat  on  the 
scenes  where  mirth  and  music  with  display  of  richest  attire 
throw  their  garb  over  the  foulest  social  sins  of  the  fallen.  But 
this  dark  life  of  the  great  metropolis  of  the  world  can  only 
cause  one's  heart  to  throb  more  earnestly  to  lead  men  to  the 
noblest  life  and  make  them  stand  in  such  a life.  It  is  not  to 
be  written. 

Through  the  kindly  direction  and  commendation  of  a 
friend,  it  was  my  privilege  to  have  a view  of  London  rarely 
enjoyed  by  visitors  — that  off  the  clock-tower  on  the  Parlia- 
ment House,  by  gas-light.  At  7:00  p.  m.,  one  evening,  con- 
ducted by  a guide.  Dr.  Thompson  led  the  way  and  the  writer 
followed,  climbing  step  after  step  until  three  hundred  and 
thirty-two  steps  had  been  ascended  through  the  tremendous 
tower,  like  which  there  is  none  in  Europe,  and  we  stood  at 
the  summit  quite  above  the  great  city,  glowing  in  the  gas  and 
electric  lights  which  gleam  like  sentinels  of  fire  on  either  side 
of  the  numberless  streets  and  lanes  and  courts  diverging,  an- 
and  crossing  at  every  point  of  vision.  Just  as  we 


orlinor 

fillip,, 


125 


126 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


reached  the  lofty  eminence  the  great  hell  struck  seven,  in 
tones  vhich  sounded  out  far  over  the  city.  To  stand  elevated 
these  hundreds  of  feet  in  the  very  mid  heavens,  with  the  great 
jiarliament  buildings  just  below,  and  the  crooked  Thames 
illuminated  by  thousands  of  flashing  lights  on  either  side,  in 
full  view  for  miles,  eastward  and  westward,  and  the  busy, 
hurrying  throng  far  up  the  streets,  which  seem  too  narrow  for 
miniature  paths,  is  an  event  j^roducing  such  emotions  and 
leaving  such  memories  as  can  not  be  forgotten.  What  busy 
life  throbs  down  there.  Men  and  vehicles  look  like  miniature 
toys.  There  is  Westminster  Abbey  at  our  feet,  j’onder  the 
prison  of  the  Lollards,  and  at  the  bending  of  the  river  the 
London  Tower.  But  oh,  the  teeming  throng  of  people ! I 
had  not  really  known  what  London  is  till  I looked  down 
upon  it  from  this  tremendous  tower. 

Before  leaving  London  I must  ask  the  reader  to  go  with  me 
to  Smithfield,  formerly  outside  of  the  Roman  walls  of  the 
city,  where  Bartholomew  Fair  with  its  revels  was  held  for 
ages,  and  where  during  the  reign  of  “Bloody  Mary”  the  holy 
martyrs  gave  their  lives  for  the  cause  of  Christ.  Here,  close 
by  the  London  meat-market,  and  where  now  nestles  a little 
garden  of  flowers  around  an  artificial  fountain,  there  once 
curled  the  crackling  flames  around  the  forms  of  those  whose 
only  crime  was  that  of  tenderly  loving  Christ,  among  whom 
were  John  Rogers,  Bradford,  and  many  others  Avhose  names 
ought  to  be  written  here.  Is  this  fountain  in  the  midst  of  the 
garden  a type  of  that  fountain  uf  blessings  to  the  world  which 
the  burning  blood  of  these  martyrs  still  pours  out  upon  the 
garden  of  our  God  ? We  revere  the  memory  of  the  holy,  and 
of  those  made  perfect  through  suffering,  but  honor  the  Master 
the  more.  Close  by  the  place  of  awful  burning,  before  the 
days  of  Tvburn  and  its  horrors,  on  the  wall  of  St.  Bartholo- 
mew’s Hospital  there  is  a large  stone  slab,  as  a memorial 
tablet,  with  this  plain  inscription, 

“ Blessed  are  the  dead  who  die  in  the  Lord.” 

“ The  noble  army  of  martyrs  praise  thee.” 

“ Within  a few  feet  of  this  spot  John  Rogers,  John  Bradford,  John 
Philpot,  and  other  servants  of  God  suffered  death  by  fire  for  the  faith  of 
Christ  in  the  year  1555,  1556,  1557.” 


CITY  ROAD  CHAPEL. 


127 


One  feels  like  taking  the  shoes  off  his  feet  and  consecrat- 
ing all  anew  to  Christ  as  he  stands  in  Smithfield,  the  scene 
of  the  martyrs’  sufi'erings  for  Christ  three  centuries  ago. 

I must  pass  by  many  places  of  charming  interest  and  spend 
a few  moments  at  City  Road  Chapel,  where  the  Ecumenical 
Conference  was  held.  This  region  used  to  be  the  Moorfields, 
where  Wesley,  Whitefield,  and  others  of  their  time  used  to 
preach  to  the  people;  and  here  was  the  first  recognized  home 
of  the  people  called  Methodists,  in  the  old  foundery  purchased 
by  John  Wesley  and  his  friends.  In  some  of  its  compartments 
John  Wesley’s  mother  lived  for  a time;  and  here  she  died. 
The  present  chapel  stands  on  City  Road,  and  has  stood  since 
November  1st,  1778,  when  it  was  dedicated  by  John  Wesley. 
The  structure  is  a neat  hut  plain  one,  adorned  with  memory 
tablets  around  the  walls,  on  which  are  the  marble  faces  of  the 
illustrious  dead.  The  memory  tablets  are  to  such  as  Richard 
Watson,  Dr.  Clarke,  Thomas  Coke,  Charles  Wesley,  Joseph 
Benson,  John  Wesley,  and  Robert  Newton.  Near  by  the 
chapel  are  the  rooms  where  Rev.  Joseph  Benson  lived  and 
died,  and  in  which  he  wrote  his  commentary.  Here  is  the 
first  burial-ground  the  Methodist  Church  ever  owned;  and  in 
its  soil  near  the  chapel  rests  the  dust  of  Wesley,  Benson, 
Richard  Watson,  Adam  Clarke,  and  many  other  noble  men, 
as  well  as  sainted  women  not  a few.  The  tomb  of  John  Wes- 
ley has  a neat  though  not  large  monument  upon  it,  with 
extended  inscriptions.  The  monuments  to  M'atson,  Clarke, 
and  Benson  are  still  less  conspicuous.  In  the  front  of  the 
chapel  is  a more  splendid  marble  monument  to  Mrs.  Susannah 
Wesley,  the  mother  of  the  Wesleys,  although  her  grave  is 
some  distance  away.  Close  to  City  Road,  on  the  southern 
grounds,  stands  the  old  home  of  Wesley,  in  which  he  lived 
and  studied  and  prayed,  and  died  March  -2d,  1791.  Many 
articles  of  interest  to  the  antiquarian  are  here,  such  as  Wes- 
ley’s clock,  bureau,  chair,  and  book-case,  and  his  side-table, 
and  last  but  not  least  his  little  old  tea-pot  from  which  he  used 
to  furnish  his  preachers  tea.  It  is  rather  dilapidated  now, 
having  lost  its  lid  and  part  of  its  spout.  It  will  hold  over 
four  quarts,  and  on  one  side  is  the  following  inscription : 


128 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


“ Be  present  at  our  table,  Lord, 

Be  here  and  everywhere  adored; 

His  creatures  bless  and  grant  that  we 
May  feast  in  paradise  with  thee.” 

On  the  other  side  is  this  verse : 

“ We  thank  thee.  Lord,  for  this  our  food, 

But  more  because  of  Jesus’  blood; 

Let  manna  to  our  souls  be  given. 

The  bread  of  life  sent  down  from  heaven.” 

Just  across  the  road  is  Bunhill  Fields,  which  Southey  called 
the  Campo  Santo  of  Dissenters.  Most  of  the  graves  are  filled 
with  the  dust  of  Dissenters.  Under  tliis  sod,  so  crowded  with 
old  stone  slabs,  sleep  not  less  than  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
four  thousand  dead.  What  a compaii}’  for  the  last  day.  Near 
the  center  of  this  grave-yard  is  the  grave  of  Mrs.  Susannah 
Wesley.  On  a jilain  stone,  erected  in  1828,  at  the  head  of 
her  tomb,  is  this  inscription, — 

HKRE 

LIES  THE  BODY  OF 

MRS.  SUSANNAH  WESLEY, 

WIDOW  OF  THE  REV.  SAMUEL  WESLEY,  M.  A., 

LATE  RECTOR  OF  EPWORTH,  IN  LINCOLNSHIRE, 

WHO  DIED  JULY  23rd,  1742, 

AGED  73  YEARS. 

She  was  the  youngest  daughter  of  the 
Rev.  Samuel  Annesley,  D.  D., 
ejected  by  the  Act  of  Uniformity  from  the 
Rectory  of  .St.  Giles’, 

Cripplegate,  August  24th,  1662. 

She  was  the  motlier  of  nineteen  children, 
of  wlioin  the  most  eminent  were  the 
Rev.  John  and  Charles  Wesley, 
the  former  of  wliom  was  under  God  the 
founder  of  the  Societies  of  the  People 
called  Methodists. 

In  sure  and  steadfast  hope  to  rise. 

And  claim  her  mansion  in  the  skies, 

A Christian  here  her  flesh  laid  down. 

The  cross  exchanging  for  a crown. 

Here  are  the  tombs  of  Rev.  George  Burder,  author  of  the 
“Village  Sermons,”  Thomas  Goodwin,  the  voluminous  writer, 


TOMBS  OF  WATTS  AND  DE  FOE. 


129 


and  the  eminent  divine  John  Owen.  One  pauses  long  at  the 
grave  of  Dr.  Isaac  ^Vatts,  the  world’s  poet,  whose  sweet  song.s 
are  yet  the  medium  through  wliich  millions  render  devout 
jjraise  to  God.  For  thirty-six  years  he  lived  with  Mr.  Thomas 
Abney,  at  Abney  Park,  in  the  north  of  London,  and  there 
wrote  most  of  his  hymns;  but  at  last  the  sweet  spirit  and 
jewel  tied  away,  and  the  casket  was  placed  here.  On  the 
monumental  tomb  is  this  modest  inscription  on  the  upper- 
most slab : 

I.sA.Kc  Watts,  D.  I)., 

Pastor  of  a church  of  Christ,  in  London,  successor  of  the  Kev.  Mr.  Jo- 
seph Caryll,  Dr.  Joliu  Owen,  iSIr.  David  tiarkson,  and  Dr.  Isaac  Chaiincey; 
after  fifty  years  of  feeble  labors  in  the  gospel,  interrujjted  by  four  years 
of  tiresome  sickness,  was  at  last  disutissed  to  rest  November  XXV.,  A.  D. 
MDCCXLVIII.,  pet.  LXXV.  II.  cor.  C.  5.  v.  8.  Absent  from  the  bod%’, 
present  with  the  Lord.  Col.  C.  .3.  v.  I.  When  Christ  wlio  is  our  life  shall 
appear,  I shall  also  appear  wilh  him  in  glor5'. 

In  Uno  Jesu  Omntu. 

Within  thi.s  tond)  are  also  deposited  the  remains  of^Sarah 
Brackstone,  sister  to  Rev.  Dr.  Isaac  Watts,  who  died  Ajiril 
13  th,  1756. 

On  either  side  of  the  monument  are  engraved  the  simple 
words,  ‘‘  Isaac  Watts,  D D.’’  The  tomb  is  about  four  feet  in 
height. 

A little  distance  from  this  tomb  is  buried  the  author  of 
“Robinson  Crusoe,’’  which  has  been  read  in  all  the  world,  by 
all  people,  in  all  languages. 

The  monument  to  De  Foe  is  aljout  fifteen  feet  high  and  four 
feet  at  the  base.  It  contains  the  following  inscription : 

Daniel  De  Foe. 

Born  1661, 

Died  1731. 

Author  of 

Kobinson  Crusoe. 

This  monument  is  the  result  of  an  appeal  in  the  Christian  World  news- 
paper to  the  boys  and  girls  of  England  for  funds  to  place  a suitable 
memorial  upon  the  grave  of 
Daniel  De  Foe. 

It  represents  the  united  contributions  of  seventeen  hundred  persons. 

September,  1870. 


130 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


I saw  man}’  tombs  where  sleep  the  ashes  of  kings  and 
queens  and  conquerors.  But  there  is  one  grave  by  whose 
side  I had  longed  more  to  stand  than  by  that  of  any  other 
in  the  world.  Here  it  is  in  Bunhill  Fields  — that  of  Bun- 
yan,  the  immortal  dreamer,  whose  writings,  next  to  the  Bible, 
have  been  read  by  more  people  than  an}’  production  ever 
given  to  man.  His  home  and  cliurch  and  pri.'^on,  to  he  sure, 
were  all  at  Bedford,  tifty  miles  away ; hut  by  a strange  provi- 
dence Bunyan  was  taken  ill  when  on  a visit  to  London  and 
died  suddenly,  and  slee2>s  here  witli  the  illustrious  in  Bun- 
hill  Fields.  I passed  by  Snow  Hill,  where  death  overtook 
the  pilgrim,  and  where  he  crossed  the  river  into  the  celes- 
tial city. 


BWNYAN’S  TOMB. 

The  monument  is  a sarcophagus  resting  upon  a heavy  base, 
and  is  surrounded  by  an  iron  railing.  On  the  top  of  the 
tomb  lies  the  stone  representing  the  form  of  Bunyan,  the  pil- 


TOMB  OF  BUXYAN. 


131 


grim  dreamer.  In  the  panel  at  the  foot  of  the  tomb  are  these 
simple  hut  sufficient  words  which  tell  the  story  all  ; 

John  Bunyan^ 
author  of  the 
Pilgrim’s  Progress. 

Obt.  31st  August,  1688, 

.E.  60. 

On  one  side  of  the  tomb,  in  effigy,  is  the  pilgrim  with  his 
staff  in  hand  and  the  heavy  load  on  his  back  as  he  a.scends 
a steep  hill.  On  the  right  side  of  the  tomb,  in  effigy,  is  the 
pilgrim  well  represented  with  the  cross  just  in  reach.  The 
burden  lies  at  his  feet,  having  fallen  from  his  back.  In  the 
panel  at  the  head  of  the  tomb  there  is  an  inscription  : 

“ Restored  by  subscription  under  the  presidency  of  the  Riglit  Honor- 
able the  Earl  of  Shaftesburj',  May,  1862.  John  Hirst,  Hon.  Sect.” 

The  monumental  tomb,  with  the  figures,  are  specimens  of 
sandstone  which  suffers  much  from  exposure  to  that  climate ; 
and  it  is  a great  misfortune  that  they  now  sliow  signs  of 
decay.  I could  not  but  think  of  the  hard  life  and  long  im- 
prisonment of  this  great  author.  He  was  a poor  unlettered 
tinker,  earning  his  bread  in  early  life  by  traveling  through 
the  country  mending  tinware  and  the  like.  Called  of  God, 
he  strove  against  mighty  foes  within  and  without.  He  came 
up  from  the  lower  walks  of  humanity,  suffered  the  keenest 
pangs  of  pain  and  sorrow,  but  so  wrote  that  every  human 
heart  responds  to  the  picture  of  the  Christian  career  he  so 
graphically  portrayed.  He  so  wrote  as  to  command,  tlie  esteem 
of  the  most  learned  of  the  world,  though  himself  esteemed 
unlearned.  He  struck  the  universal  heart  as  no  uninspired 
mind  has  ever  done.  Xo  story  has  ever  so  thrilled  to  holy 
passions  the  human  soul  as  the  allegory  of  Bunyan.  He  was 
made  to  bear  a heavy  burden,  but  it  has  long  ago  rolled  off ; 
and  his  writings  have  made  the  burdens  light  on  millions  of 
hearts.  That  he  wrote  “ Pilgrim’s  Progress  ” is  enough.  He 
has  illuminated  the  darkest  shadow  of  earth.  From  the  dark- 
ness of  Bedford  jail,  God  speaks  and  shows  us  how  light  can 
come  out  of  darkness. 


132 


SCOTLAND  AND  ENGLAND. 


Standing  there  above  the  dreamless  dust  of  the  writer  of 
“Pilgrim’s  Progress,”  I fell  into  a reverie  from  which  I was 
loath  to  part.  I saw  the  pilgrim's  sad  state  standing  with 
his  face  from  his  home,  clad  in  rags  and  a great  burden  on 
his  hack.  Then  I saw  him  struggling  hard  in  the  Slough  of 
Despond.  Then  quite  beyond  there  rose  the  form  of  the  cross, 
at  the  sight  of  which  the  burden  rolled  off  tlie  back  of  the 
pilgrim.  I saw  the  pilgrim  reading  now  and  again  from  the 
roll  Avhich  he  drew  out  of  his  bosom  j the  Palace  Beautiful , 


BEDFORD  JAIL. 


tTifa  passage  through  the  Valley  of  Humiliation.  I heard 
Christian  and  Faithful  and  one  Talkative  in  conversation.  I 
thought  I saw  the  pilgrims  brought  to  trial ; and  while  Faith- 
ful suffered  martyrdom  Christian  went  on,  having  escaped, 
though  with  a sad  heart.  Then  I beheld  him  ivrestle  with 
one  Giant  Despair.  Beyond  there  rose  to  my  enchanted  vision 
the  Delectable  Mountains;  and  on  those  golden  hills  were 


A A’ErERIB. 


133 


groups  of  white-robed  pilgrims, — ^ Christian,  Hopeful,  Chris- 
tiaiia  and  her  children,  and  vast  and  unnumbered  throngs,— 
who  talked  of  the  land  of  Beulah,  through  which  they  were 
soon  to  pass.  Then  T saw  them  go  over  the  river ; and  they 
went  up  to  the  gate  of  the  citj',  and  a company  of  the  heav- 
enly host  came  out  to  meet  tliem.  And  T heard  the  hosts 
shout,  “Blessed  are  they  which  are  called  unto  the  marriage- 
supper  of  the  Lamb.”  And  there  were  trumpets;  and  ten 
thousand  compassed  the  ]>ilgrims  about  and  welcomed  them 
into  the  celestial  city,  the  streets  of  which  are  paved  with 
pure  gold, — “Which  when  I had  seen,  I wished  myself  among 
them.” 


PART  THIRD. 


FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


CHAPTER  I. 


The  English  Channel  — Paris  — Statuary — Men  and  Women — Church  of 
the  Madeleine  — Agriculture  — Tlie  Alps  — Mont  Cenis  Tunnel  — Ital- 
ian Skies  and  Landscapes  — Mountains  Terraced  — St.  Micliele  della 
Chiusa  — Turin  — Two  Incidents  — The  Waldenses — Pisa — The  Cathe- 
dral— Campo  Santo — Leaning  Tower — Jourjaey  to  Florence. 

HE  English  channel,  crossing  which  one  reaches  the 
Continent,  is  the  terror  of  all  travelers.  The  dis- 
tance from  London  to  Paris  is  only  a little  over  a 
hundred  miles  by  rail.  The  short,  quick  route  is  by  Dover, 
Y of  which  Camiibell  wrote  “ The  dear  White  Cliffs  of  Do- 
ver,”  and  Calais  on  the  French  side.  At  this  point  the 
channel  is  only  twenty-three  miles  wide.  The  ivater  is  shal- 
low, which  accounts  for  its  world-renowned  ability  to  produce 
sea-sickness  such  as  nowhere  else  seizes  the  vitals  of  man.  I 
had  cherished  a mortal  horror  of  it ; but  what  was  my  surprise 
when  on  the  evening  of  September  17th  the  sea  was  calm,  and 
I enjoyed  a delightful  passage  to  Continental  soil.  xVt  this 
point  Captain  Matthew  Webb,  in  1875,  by  tire  aid  of  sails 
and  attendants  who  fed  him  beef- tea,  swam  across  it  in 
twenty-two  hours.  A plan  is  now  in  contemplation  to  con- 
struct a tunnel  entirely  under  the  channel,  through  which 
trains  may  pass,  uninterrupted.  The  rock  is  said  to  be  suf- 
ficiently solid  to  make  the  enterprise,  — which  has  already 
been  tested, — a success. 


134 


PARIS. 


135 


I had  only  time  to  spare  to  spend  two  or  three  days  in  Paris. 
One  of  these  was  a Sabbath.  Paris  is  renowned  for  its  beauty 
and  fashion.  Indeed,  France  is  a garden-sjiot  in  creation,  and 
Paris  a garden  city.  Its  great,  wide  streets,  with  shades  and 
walks  on  either  side,  and  often  in  the  middle  of  the  streets; 
its  beautifully -arranged  scjuares,  to  which  all  the  adjacent 
streets  converge ; its  houses  of  ornamental  beauty,  six  and 
seven  stories  higli,  everywhere  built  of  white  marble,  with 
the  corridors  l)eneath  them  for  sidewalks,  furnishing  homes 
for  almost  two  millions  of  people,  make  a city  of  beauty  such 
as  there  is  no  other  so  fair  in  all  this  wide  world.  Paris  is  not 
a business  city,  such  as  is  London.  It  is  the  home  of  fashion, 
pride,  and  pleasure  such  as  pass  aAvay.  To  speak  of  a Sal)- 
bath  in  Paris  is,  however,  almost  a misnomer.  I should  think 
that  quite  more  than  half  of  the  places  of  public  business 


PLACE  DE  LA  CONCORDE. 


remain  open.  It  is  a gala  day.  In  the  Place  de  la  Cnnmrde, 
the  most  extensively  ornamented  i)lace  in  Paris,  or  perhaps 
in  the  world,  in  the  center  of  Avhich  once  stood  the  guillotine 
during  the  “reign  of  terror,’’  under  Avhich  Louis  XVI.  and 


136  FRAXCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


his  unfortunate  Marie  Antoinette,  besides  many  illustrious 
persons  and  members  of  the  nobility,  perished,  and  where  the 
peojjle  then  eongrc'gated  to  look  coolly  on  tragedies,  now  there 
are  gathered  thousands  of  jx'ople,  with  carriages  unnumbered, 
only  to  witness  balloon  ascensions,  fire-works,  and  the  Avild 
display  of  Hags  and  heraldry  amid  statues  of  marble,  sliad- 
owed  by  the  obelisk  of  Luxor  from  ancient  Thebes.  There  are 
faithful,  earnest  lalxirers  here  for  the  salvation  of  the  jn'ojde; 
hut  they  are  quite  too  few.  The  Avomen  are  fair  indeed,  and 
the  men  are  proud.  The  people  are  intent  upon  having  a 
good  time.  The  imblic  as  Avell  as  many  priA'ate  buildings  are 
adorned  Avith  statuary  and  carvings,  l)e.streAved  as  Avhen  Au- 
tumn casts  her  leaves  to  the  earth.  You  can  stand  in  one 
spot  and  count  hundreds  of  life-size  marble  figures  adorning 
the  great  Louvre.  The  banks  of  the  Seine,  the  j)ul)lic  squares, 
parks,  bridges,  and  dwellings  are  'studded  Avith  costly  statuary 
and  monuments.  There  are  enough  rude,  nude,  and  IcAvd 
pictures  of  Avomen  displayed  in  the  shop -AvindoAvs  and  at 
other  places  in  Pari.s,  and  enough  nude  statuary  here  to  send 
in  a fcAV  years  any  city  of  Europe  into  the  damnation  of  the 
foulest  social  hell.  Art  and  fashit)!!  are  not  things  to  be 
Avorshiped  Avhen  they  lead  to  lust  and  ruin.  Tliere  is  no 
secretiA’e  eoA'ering  for  sin  here  as  in  America.  The  A’cry 
customs' of  society  i)resent  it  boldly  to  the  Avorld.  The  ca  fes 
for  drinking,  instead  of  being  behind  shaded  AvindoAvs  and 
screened  doors,  are  o2)ened  wide,  Avhile  most  of  the  drinking  is 
done  at  small  tables  under  awnings  on  the  side-Avalks.  You 
may  often  count  from  fifty  to  one  hundred  men  and  Avomen, 
seated  promiscuously  in  front  of  one  great  drinking-house,  at 
these  tables  drinking,  laughing,  smoking,  and  talking.  The 
creature  America  calls  a prostitute  and  casts  out  of  society 
is  here  a courtesan  flattered  and  adored.  The  statistics  of 
Paris  shoAV  that  one  fourth  or  more  of  the  children  born  are 
illegitimate.  This  statistical  fact  can  only  suggest  the  enormity 
of  the  A’ice  and  shame  coA'cred  l)y  the  shoAv  and  splendor  of 
this  proud  city  of  Napoleon  that  Avas. 

The  melancholy  marks  of  the  triumj)hant  tread  of  the  Prus- 


cnuiicil  Ot  THE  MADELEINE 


pians  who  visited  Paris  a few  years  ago  are  yet  to  be  seen  in 
several  ruins  which  stand  out  with  blackened  walls,  telling 
the  story  of  the  siege  of  the  city  and  its  coii(|U('st  after  long 
resistance  endured  almost  to  starvation.  But  with  all  the 


pretended  culture  of  Paris,  with  the  social  enormities  of  vice, 
which  mingle  in  society  until  it  is  thereby  permeated,  I can 
not  see  how  Christian  Americans  can  send  their  daughters 


138  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


here  to  be  educated,  unless  they  first  lose  regard  for  com- 
mon decency  and  purity  of  morals. 

In  Paris  there  are  many  places  of  interest  to  the  tourist; 
but  the  most  interesting  to  a Christian  and  student  of  Chris- 
tian architecture,  is  the  Church  of  the  Madeleine,  which  has 
been  standing  for  many  centuries.  It  i.'^  a perfect  model  of 
the  ancient  Greek  art,  and  seems  to  be  fashioned  after  the  old 
temple  of  Theseus,  at  Athens,  though  many  times  larger.  It 
has  a majestic  grandeur  which  I saw  nowhere  else.  It  has 
no  tower  nor  dome,  l)ut  its  great  row  of  Corinthian  columns, 
which  Avith  artful  majesty  and  solemn  grandeur  entirely  sur- 
rnund  it,  occasions  an  impression  upon  the  heart  which  feAV 
other  sights  produce.  It  is  only  AA'hen  one  stands  under  the 
moonlight  shadows  of  the  awful  columns  of  the  temple  of 
Jupiter  at  Baalbec,  in  fsyria,  that  he  is  thrilled  with  such 
emotions  as  come  throbbing  to  his  brain  under  the  corridors 
of  the  Church  of  the  Madeleine. 

The  journey  through  soutliern  France  is  a delightful  one. 
The  country  is  like  a vast  garden.  Here  I saw  the  first 
stalk  of  corn  after  leaving  America.  Fruits  are  almndant. 
There  were  people  plowing  with  four  oxen  — some  Avith  tAvo. 

What  ploAvs,”  our  })eoj)le  Avould  exclaim.  They  are  Iaa'O 
sticks,  or  one  crooked  one.  The  country  is  leA’el  for  over  three 
hundred  miles  south  of  Paris,  Avhere  you  come  to  Amherieux, 
at  the  base  of  the  Jura  ^Mountains.  Through  this  vast  coun- 
try the  houses  are  neat  hut  humble,  and  the  fences  are  of  Avire. 
There  are  no  such  Avooden  fences  as  belong  to  the  Avooded 
districts  of  America.  From  this  you  enter  the  Valley  of  the 
Albarine,  passing  betAveen  Avild  mountain  heights  and  lofty 
peaks  and  rocky  towers,  on  the  summit  of  Avhich,  far  aAvay, 
you  can  once  in  aAvhile  see  the  chiseled  form  of  statuary  or 
the  cross  put  on  these  peaks,  as  though  to  add  to  Avhat  Nature 
had  done  in  her  Avildest  mood.  The  passage  up  the  A’alley 
into  the  Alps,  the  great  mountains  forming  the  boundary  be- 
tAveen  France  and  Italy,  is  the  most  delightful,  bold,  and  im- 
pressiA'e  on  the  globe.  The  Alps  differ  fronr  the  mountains 
of  Ireland  and  Scotland  and  America,  in  that  they  are  much 


MONT  CENIS  TUNNEL. 


139 


higher  and  sharper  in  their  spires  and  cones;  and  the  cuts 
and  crags  are  sharper  and  deeper.  Many  of  these  heights  are 
covered  with  green,  while  far  up  the  slopes  handsome  little 
farms  are  cultivated,  and  upon  terrace  above  terrace  large 
patches,  almost  fields,  of  grapes  grow  luxuriantly.  Often- 
times the  vast  rocks  are  stratified.  Sometimes  these  strata  are 
twisted  as  though  some  Omnipotent  force  had  given  them  an 
awful  wrench  and  half  upset  and  half  turned  them  around. 
Sometimes  the  rocks  are  gray,  then  again  dark,  and  at  i^laces 
almost  as  white  as  mnrble.  What  seemed  strangest  of  all  was 
to  see  many  places  in  those  Alpine  heights  crested  with  snow. 
Those  lofty  peaks,  dressed  in  their  hoary  garb  of  snow,  far 
away  in  the  skies,  looked  like  distant  clouds.  The  valleys 
below  were  dressed  in  their  richest  summer  green,  and  the 
farmers  were  making  haj'  in  the  fields  skirted  with  great  rows 
of  poplar  and  evergreen,  while  to  the  right  and  left  and  every- 
where the  A1})S  lift  their  immortal  heads  of  rock,  covered  with 
snow,  in  awful  and  indescribable  grandeur.  You  can  not  tell 
where  the  mountains  end  and  where  the  clouds  begin.  To- 
Avard  the  summit  of  the  Ali>s  the  train  stopped  at  Modane  and 
I carried  my  baggage  into  the  custom-house  for  examination, 
l)ccause  Italy  Avas  to  be  entered  presently.  We  had  crossed  the 
almost  classic  river  Rhone,  and  climljed  up  amid  these  Alpine 
crags  to  a height  of  over  five  thousand  feet,  and  still  Avith  tAVo 
huge  engines  in  front,  the  car  Avent  up  amid  the  clouds. 

Thus  surrounded  Avith  solitary  and  impressive  Alpine  maj- 
esty Ave  came  to  the  celebrated  Alont  Cenis  Tunnel,  Avhich 
takes  one  xinder  as  much  of  the  Alps  as  he  can  not  climb  oA'er. 
At  this  place  the  mountains  reach  the  sublime  height  of  eight 
thousand  three  hundred  feet.  The  tunnel  is  tAventy-six  f(>et 
Avide,  nineteen  feet  high,  and  eight  miles  long.  Its  northern 
entrance  is  three  thousand,  eight  hundred  and  tAvo  feet  above 
sea-leA'el,  and  its  southern  entrance  four  thousand,  tAvo  hun- 
dred and  forty-five  feet.  When  in  the  center  of  the  tunnel, 
you  haA'e  aboA'e  you  the  mountain  four  thousand  and  ninety- 
three  feet.  It  Avas  completed  in  1870,  after  nine  years  of 
labor,  in  Avhich  from  one  thousand  five  hundred  to  tAvo  thou- 


140  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


sand  men  were  employed  constantly  on  each  side  of  the 
mountain.  The  train  was  just  half  an  hour  passing  through 
it.  Who  can  describe  the  feelings  of  excitement  which  pre- 
vailed here  more  than  ten  years  ago  when,  after  nine  long 
years  of  work,  the  laborers  paused  to  hear  the  sound  of  the 
strokes  of  the  picks  and  sledges  and  chisels  of  those  who  were 
laboring  on  the  other  side.^  It  is  said  that  they  shouted  with 
the  wildest  joy.  But  if  it  was  so  here,  what  must  it  be  to  the 
faithful  soul  who  has  toiled  hard  to  ])ress  his  way  through  dif- 
ficulty and  rocks  and  storms  up  to  the  higher  presence  of  God, 
when  exhausted  by  the  grappling  of  death  he  shall  hear  the 
angels  from  the  other  side  ready  to  break  through  the  gloom 
and  show  him  the  open  path  to  the  throne  of  God ! 

Tourists  and  poets  have  written  and  sung  the  fairness  of 
Italian  skies  and  landscapes,  but  their  delicate  and  soft  hues 
have  never  been  painted  save  by  Him  Avhose  hand  divine 
measures  them  day  by  day. 

As  the  train,  which  was  lighted  with  gas,  came  to  the  south- 
ern end  merging  from  the  tunnel,  Hash  after  flash  of  light 
burst  now  and  again  on  the  sight.  It  seemed  electric.  But  all 
at  once  the  darkness  was  gone,  the  sun  was  up  in  si>lendor, 
the  air  light  and  fresh  and  balmy,  and  the  very  valleys  and 
gorges  and  mountains  seemed  tropical.  Here  and  there  the 
people  were  plowing;  and  to  do  this  it  seems  to  require  one 
man,  from  two  to  four  oxen,  and  the  same  number  of  women. 
The  man  gui<les  the  plow,  and  the  women  guide  and  lead  the 
oxen  and  dig  along  the  furrow  to  finish  what  an  excuse  of  a 
plow  has  left  unfinished.  The  women  all  .«eem  to  be  in  the 
field.  Some  were  carrying  hay  in  bundles  and  sacks  on 
their  backs  down  from  the  terraces  of  the  mountains.  Some 
were  carrving  grapes  in  great  funnel-shai>ed  I)askets  strapj>ed 
on  their  backs.  ( I would  recomnumd  this  for  weak  backs.) 
Some  were  thrashing  otf  the  seed  from  the  heini),  and  binding 
the  hem])  or  cutting  it  down.  These  southern  slopes  of  the 
Alps  are  covered  with  hundreds,  yea,  thousands  of  terraces, 
one  above  the  other;  and  these  have  grapes,  figs,  and  fruits 
of  all  kinds.  Going,  down  the  mountain,  crossing  the  Ford 


TWO  INCIDENTS. 


141 


and  by  Borgone,  the  railway  lies  in  sight  of  a lofty  eminence 
on  the  very  summit  of  which  is  the  abbey  of  St.  Michele  della 
Chiu-sa,  which  is  peculiar  from  the  reported  fact  that,  from 
some  atmospheric  or  other  causes,  the  dead  buried  in  its  tombs 
are  converted  into  mummies. 

We  had  only  a short  time  to  stop  at  Turin,  — four  hundred 
and  ninety-six  miles  from  Paris,  — the  cai3ital  of  Italy  from 
1859  to  I860.  It  was  once  destroyed  by  Hannibal,  more  than 
two  hundred  years  before  Christ,  but  was  soon  rebuilt,  and 
since  it  has  sustained  a history  illustrious  for  its  industry 
and  national  struggles. 

Stopping  at  an  Italian  town  is  a little  amusing.  First,  you 
don’t  know  anybody ; then  the  miserable  folks  can  not  under- 
stand your  Italian,  no  matter  how  loud  you  halloo  it  at  them. 
I shall  not  soon  forget  a little  device  to  which  1113"  traveling 
companion.  Dr.  Thompson,  and  m3-self  were  driven  to  at 
Turin.  We  must  of  course  get  something  to  eat.  The  time 
of  the  departure  of  the  train  must  be  ascertained.  We  found 
our  wa}"  to  a large  cafe  in  the  dejiot,  and  seating  ourselves  at  a 
table,  looked  wise  and  said  to  the  waiter,  “Cofiee.”  He  said 
something  which  sounded  like  “ bread,  butter.”  We  nodded 
assent.  We  wanted  to  go  to  Pisa;  so  we  kept  sa3ung  Fisa  to 
one,  now  and  then  pointing  to  the  cars  and  to  the  clock.  Dr. 
Thompson  did  it  this  wu3' : Beginning  to  count,  he  went 
counting  on  his  fingers,  one,  two,  three,  four,  and  so  on,  paus- 
ing and  giving  prominence  to  the  fingers  all  the  time,  until 
he  counted  seven.  Here  the  man  stopped  him,  and  motioned 
to  cut  his  great  finger  in  two  just  in  the  middle,  taking  half 
off.  He  had  it  — seven  and  a half  o'clock. 

Here  I must  relate  a little  incident  connected  with  the  trip 
over  the  Alps,  on  the  return  journe3".  In  compan}’  with  two 
other  Americans  I was  traveling  in  an  English  car  from 
Milan,  in  northern  Ital}^,  across  the  Alps  to  France.  In  the 
same  compartment  of  the  car  were  a gentleman  and  his  wife 
and  their  little  daughter.  The}",  too,  were  going  to  Paris,  and 
were  French  people.  The}"  could  not  speak  or  understand  our 
language ; we  could  not  speak  or  understand  theirs.  They 


142  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


were  intelligent  and  refined,  and  possessed  the  highest  cult- 
ured feelings  and  manners.  Traveling  together  that  day  and 
night,  how  much  talking  we  did — and  without  saying  a dozen 
words  each  other  could  understand.  The  gentleman  said. 
Monsieur,  English  ? ” I answered,  “ American.”  Taking  us 
all  into  account,  he  answered,  “Messieurs  America;”  and  the 
good  lady’s  musical  voice  exclaimed,  “ Messieurs  Americie.” 
Then  they  talked  much ; but  never  a word  did  we  under- 
stand. They  wanted  to  know  where  we  were  going  and  where 
we  had  come  from.  One  of  our  company  told  them  Italy, 
Constantinople,  Greece,  Pale.stine,  Egypt,  Pisa,  Florence,  Ven- 
ice, IMilan,  Paris,  London,  and  then,  with  a great  gesture, 
said,  “America.”  With  what  expressions  of  delight  they  all 
joined  and  repeated  the  names  of  the  cities  and  countries 
which  had  been  mentioned,  and  then  with  expressions  of  dis- 
tance and  joyous  laughter  they  exclaimed  “Ameririe.”  Thus 
our  conversation  had  run  over  the  wide  world,  and  we  were 
kin.  As  we  crossed  the  dizzy  heights  of  the  Alps  the  rocking 
and  turning  of  the  train  made  the  lady  very  sick.  Her  hus- 
band evidently  was  a physician.  He  had  a medical  pocket- 
case  filled  with  medicines,  lie  took  out  a small  vial ; but  the 
glass  stopper  was  fast  and  he  could  not  get  it  out,  tliough  he 
pulled  and  twisted  at  it,  and  looked  heartily  at  it,  and  then 
pulled  and  tAvisted  and  pulled  with  many  a gesture  and  ugly 
expression  of  the  face.  The  good  lady  Avas  very  sick  in  her 
head.  What  was  to  be  done  ? The  Avriter  dreAv  a match  from 
his  vest  pocket  and  struck  it,  and  taking  hold  of  the  gentle- 
man motioned  to  hold  the  neck  of  the  vial  in  the  little  flame 
till  it  should  heat  and  expand,  and  thus  loosen  the  stopper. 
The  Frenchman  saAV  it  at  a glance.  IIoav  that  called  forth  lus 
grateful  French.  But  not  a Avord  did  Ave  understand.  But 
he  and  the  lady  forgot  it  not  till  Ave  had  all  reached  “Parfe” 
and  had  shaken  hands  and  .said  “aw  reyoiV.” 

Thirty  miles  aAvay  from  Turin,  south  and  west,  on  the  front- 
ier of  France,  in  a sequestered  place,  are  the  valleys  of  the 
Waldenses,  Avhere  live  those  people  Avhose  piety  and  heroism 
honor  the  Avorld.  These  Protestant,  prosperous,  frugal  heroes 


PISA. 


143 


of  suffering  and  persecution  have  steadily  maintained  their 
faith,  occupying  these  valleys,  speaking  the  French  language, 
for  six  hundred  years,  and  deserve  oiir  highest  sympathies 
and  honor.  The  Waldenses  now  number  twenty-five  thou- 
sand. The  thought  of  their  trials  and  faithfulness  awakens  a 
feeling  of  kinship — -not  tliat  we  have  suffered,  only  we  love 
the  Jesus  for  whom  they  bled. 

One  hundred  miles  from  Turin  is  Genoa,  the  birthplace 
and  home  of  Christopher  Columbus,  of  whom  the  children  of 
America  are  taught  two  things;  yes,  three  things— that  he 
was  born  in  Genoa,  Italy;  that  he  had  a hard  time  getting  off 
on  his  expedition  going  west,  and  that  he  almost  discovered 
America.  His  statue  is  held  in  high  regard,  and  stands  only  a 
little  way  from  the  depot.  The  city  has  one  hundred  and  thirty 
thousand  people,  and  is  the  commercial  center  of  Italy.  But 
plunging  into  and  out  of  tunnel  after  tunnel  down  the  rocky 
coast  of  the  Gulf  of  Genoa,  passing  over  one  hundred  miles 
southward,  you  an'  at  far-famed  Pisa,  about  nine  hundred 
miles  southward  from  London.  This  antique  city  is  one  of 
the  most  frequented  places  in  all  Europe  by  persons  in  search 
of  health.  It  has  a ]ioi)ulation  of  about  twenty-six  thousand. 
It  contains  four  things  of  interest.  The  great  cathedral  is  one 
of  the  wonders  of  Italy,  built  in  Tu.scan  style  in  1063.  It  is 
one  of  the  oldest  sj)eeimens  of  the  Basilica  style  of  art,  with 
nave  and  double  aisles,  over  three  hundred  feet  long  and  one 
hundred  wide.  The  statuary  and  paintings  in  the  choir 
and  nave  are  very  fine,  while  those  in  the  transepts  are 
especially  interesting.  Directly  south  of  the  cathedral  is 
the  baptistery,  begun  in  1152  by  DiotLsalvi,  and  completed 
nine  years  later.  It  is  entirely  of  marble,  in  cii’cular  form, 
one  hundred  feet  in  diameter.  The  famous  pulpit  resting 
on  seven  columns,  which  rest  alike  on  carved  creatures,  is 
richly  relieved  by  carvings.  This  structure  is  covered  with  a 
dome  rising  like  a cone  nearly  two  hundred  feet  high.  The 
echo  of  the  baptistery  is  one  of  the  finest  to  be  experienced 
in  any  possible  vibrations  of  sounds.  Westward  a few  paces 
is  the  old  Campo  Santo,  sacred  ground,  or  burial  ground  of  the 


144  FRANCK,  1TAL\\  GR EECF,  AND  T L RKE Y. 


olden  city.  Its  nse  as  such  hogan  in  1188.  The  reigning  arch- 
bishop^after  the  lo.'^s  of  tlie  Holy  Land,  had  fitty-tlirce  ship- 
loads of  dirt  lirought  from  Jerusalem  and  ])laced  here  so  that 


VIEW  OF  PISA. 


JOURNEY  TO  FLORENCE. 


145 


the  dead  might  rest  in  holy  ground.  It  is  four  hundred  and 
fourteen  feet  long,  one  hundred  and  sixty -one  feet  wide,  and 
about  one  hundrc'd  and  thirty  feet  high.  The  paintings 
upon  tlie  walls,  executed  more  than  five  hundred  years  ago, 
show  tlie  skillful  design  and  thought  of  that  day,  and  present 
many  Ix'autiful  scripture-thoughts.  The  “Triumph  of  Death,” 
“The  Last  Judgment,”  and  other  paintings  on  the  south  wall 
by  Buftalniacco  ai'c  worthy  of  admiration  The  monument 
to  Count  Mastiani,  the  statue  of  the  Inconsolable  Widow,  seen 
from  one  ])osition  has  a looked'  deepest  sadness;  from  a dif- 
ferent ])osition  it  has  the  expression  of  humor  and  delight — 
a fitting  caricature  of  many  of  the  inconsolables. 

.Just  to  the  north  of  the  cathedral  is  the  Campanile,  or 
leaning  tower,  one  of  the  wonders  of  the  world.  It  seems  to 
have  been  built  alone  as  a bell  or  clock  tower.  It  was  com- 
menced as  early  as  1174,  by  Bonannus,  but  was  not  completed 
till  13.50,  by  one  Pisano.  Its  height  is  one  hundred  and 
ninety-nine  feet  and  its  circumference  about  eighty  feet.  It 
has  eight  different  stories,  with  six  colonnades  surrounding  it. 
Its  peculiar  interest  is  from  the  fact  that  it  is  thirteen  feet  out 
of  perpendicular.  Whether  built  in  this  oblique  position  or 
made  so  by  the  settling  or  sinking  away  of  the  earth  no  one 
can  tell.  1 found  mvse}f  inclining,  like  the  tower,  to  the  latter 
view.  It  looks  as  if  some  giant  had  well-nigh  pushed  it  over. 
The  tower  contains  seven  bells,  the  heaviest  of  which  weighs 
si.x  ton.s.  The  view  commanded  from  this  height  well  repaid 
the  climbing  of  over  three  hundred  steps  to  reach  the  giddy 
height  of  this  quaint  old  relic  of  the  ages  ]>ast.  The  illus- 
tration on  the  opposite  page  gives  a splendid  view  of  Pisa, 
including  the  Baptistery,  tlie  Cathedral,  and  the  Campanile, 
and  the  Campo  Smito  directly  in  front  of  the  Cathedral. 

From  Pisa  a ride  of  four  and  a half  hours  on  the  cars,  sixty- 
one  miles,  through  a fertile  plain  or  valley  near  the  Arno, 
brings  you  to  Florence,  the  city  of  art.  It  spreads  out  its  fair 
streets  and  tile -covered  buildings  over  a beautiful  and  far- 
reaching  valley,  one  of  the  sweetest  in  sunny  Italy. 


CHAPTER  II. 


Florence  — View  of  the  City  — Home  of  Vespucci  — Dante  — Savonarola  — 
Uffizi  Gallery  — Portrait  of  Raphael  — Baptistery  — Incidents—  Piazza 
— St.  Croce  — Tomb  of  Angelo  — Galileo- Do  Medici— Field  of  Art 
— Cathedral. 


fi  F London  is  the  commercial  city  of  the  world,  and 
Paris  its  city  of  fashion.  Florence  is  the  world’s  art- 
city.  Its  long  having  been  the  home  of  the  masters, 
and  its  galleries  which  garner  so  largely  their  produc- 
tions of  genius  and  culture,  make  it  to  possess  the  rich- 
est treasures  that  the  lover  of  the  beautiful  in  art  coidd 
expect  to  find  on  the  globe.  Florence  was  tin;  capital  of  the 
Grand  Duchy  of  Tuscany,  and  of  Italy  after  its  removal  from 
Turin,  from  1865  to  1870.  Since  the  middle  ages,  Florence  has 
been  held  to  outrank  Rome  as  a focus  of  intellectual  life.  It 
lies  on  either  side  of  the  Arno,  a small  river  with  ocean  tide. 
Its  origin  dates  somewhat  beyond  tlie  birth  of  Christ,  and  it 
now  has  a population  of  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  three 
thousand.  Its  buildings  are  not  grand  and  its  streets  are  nar- 
row, yet  the  pavements  are  very  fine  and  tlie  city  is  clean  and 
tidy.  I had  only  two  short  days  there,  wlierc  weeks  would  be 
desirable.  Florence  is  not  seen  by  beholding  its  buildings,  its 
walls,  its  fine  quays  along  the  Arno,  or  by  viewing  its  gar- 
dens, or  surrounding  mountains  of  inexhaustible  richness  of 
beauty.  It  is  within  the  shrines  of  art  that  arc  to  be  seen 
the  choicest  gems,  the  treasures  of  tvhich  have  enriehed  tlu^ 
world’s  beauty.  Yet  it  is  quite  worth  while  to  take  a drive  to 
the  eminence  in  the  south-east  of  the  city  called  “ Michael 
Angelo’s  Square,”  which  is  reached  by  a splendid  street  around 
the  city,  gradually  rising  amid  artistic  dwellings  surrounded 

146 


VIEW  OF  THE  CITY. 


147 


by  gardens  of  flowers  choice  with  perfume,  and  adorned  with 
sculpture  which  foreshadows  to  the  eye  what  is  to  come  to  no- 
tice. On  the  square  is  a bronze  copy  of  Angelo’s  David. 
Directly  westward  comes  the  river  Arno.  To  the  left,  climb- 
ing obliquel}'  up  a steep  hill  covered  with  vines,  grapes,  and 
olive.'^  is  the  stout  old  Roman  wall  of  the  sixteenth  century. 
Directly  southward,  a mile  away  on  a hill,  is  Michael  An- 
gelo’s observatory,  a large  building  with  tall  tower,  from 
which  he  used  to  look  down  with  pleasure  upon  the  Floren- 
tine city  which  did  him  honor,  and  farther  to  the  left  the 
miglity  tower  or  fortress  constructed  by  Angelo.  Turning  to 
look  northward  or  westward,  the  whole  Florentine  city  spreads 
over  the  valley  like  a golden  veil  of  beauty  cast  over  an  ivory 
face,  stretching  far  up  the  distant  hills.  For  miles  these 
white-walled  palaces  sparkle  in  the  light,  shaded  by  the  col- 
ored tile-roofing.  In  front  and  in  the  center  of  the  city  is  the 
Piazza  St.  Croce,  the  pantheon  of  Florence,  close  by  it  the 
Palazzo  Vecchio,  associated  with  Savonarola,  the  “ reformer  be- 
fore the  reformation,"  and  in  front  of  which  his  holy  soul 
went  up  to  God  from  the  flames.  To  the  right  and  beyond  is 
the  English  burial-ground  where  Theodore  Parker  sleeps,  and 
Mrs.  Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning,  born  in  England,  the  phil- 
anthropical  poet  who  could  sing  so  sweetly,  and  with  such 
love  for  Italy,  “Beyond  the  Alps  my  Italy  is  there.”  Far 
away  to  the  right  nestles  the  more  humble  home  where  An- 
gelo fivst  saw\the  light.  Far  over  the  city  in  the  thin  air  the 
lofty  Apennines  rear  their  heads. 

The  scene  enraptures  one  as  he  looks  down  upon  lofty 
buildings  which  garner  so  largely  the  treasures  of  Florentine 
art  from  the  days  of  the  masters,  and  upon  the  places  where 
their  dust,  by  the  art  of  death  refined,  awaits  the  day  of  tri- 
umph over  death. 

Only  a little  way  from  the  banks  of  the  Arno  still  stands 
the  old  home  of  Amerigo  Vespucci,  after  whom  America  re- 
ceived its  name.  In  that  he  has  an  honor  such  as  has  come 
to  the  name  of  no  man  that  has  ever  lived  on  the  earth.  But 
he  sleeps  close  by  the  vaults  of  All  Saints  Church.  Vespucci’s 


148  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


home  lias  the  appearance  of  wealth  and  comfort,  and  wears 
the  marks  of  great  age,  as  does  the  old  home  of  Dante,  the 
Tuscan  poet,  which  stands  a few  squares  away.  It  is  a nar- 
row, high,  oddly-constructed  dwelling,  the  front  of  which  has 
been  faced  with  new  stone. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  places  in  Florence  is  the  Palazzo 
Vecchio,  the  seat  of  government  of  the  republic,  afterward  the 
residence  of  Cosimo,  but  now  a town  hall,  built  five  hundred 
years  ago.  In  the  time  of  Savonarola  it  was' greatly  changed 
and  amended,  by  his  instructions, under  the  hand  of  Michael 
Angelo.  Just  to  the  left  of  the  entrance  is  the  s})ot  where 
Savonarola  Avas  offered  up  to  death  in  fire  of  marfyrdom.  May 
28d,  1498.  As  I stood  close  by  the  spot  of  his  martyrdom  I 
seemed  to  hear  the  words  of  the  hero  answering  the  bishop 
who  purposely  added  to  his  pi’etended  sei)aration  of  Savona- 
rola from  the  church  militant,  “ the  church  triumphant,”  say- 
ing in  heaven-aspiring  tones,  ‘‘  Militant,  not  triunqihant,  for 
that  is  not  giviui  to  thee.”  I could  see  him  Avalking  out  last 
of  a train,  and  hear  him  say,  as  some  friend  tried  to  comfort 
him,  “ In  the  hour  of  death  God  only  can  give  comfort.” 
Here  before  him  on  the  same  spot,  the  same  hour,  were  the 
youths  Sah'estro  and  Domenico,  Avho  passed  to  heaven  through 
the  same  fiery  chariot.  "What  things  employed  the  thoughts 
of  the  martyr  ? Did  he  hear  the  cry  of  the  mob  clamoring 
for  his  death,  or  did  he  hear  the  song  of  the  angels  Avelcoming 
him  up  on  high?  Did  he  see  the  scaffold  before  him  and  the 
executioners  there,  or  did  he  see  only  Jesus,  ‘AVho,”  he  ex- 
claimed, “suffered  as  much  for  me”?  Such  questions  can  not 
well  be  suppressed  as  one  stands  on  the  soil  enriched  by  the 
burning  blood  of  those  Avho  had  the  heroism  to  die  for  the 
truth  rather  than  to  recant  and  live.  The  ashes  of  Savona- 
rola went  into  the  tide  of  the  Arno,  but  men  and  Avomen, 
strong  and  noble,  in  disguise  sought  relics  of  one  they  loved, 
and  for  tAVO  hundred  and  fifty  years  scattered  floAvers  annually 
on  the  spot  from  Avhich  the  heroic  soul  Avent  up  to  God.  Now 
a great  fountain  has  been  placed  on  the  spot  where  the  stake 
stood.,  pouring  forth  its  crystal  stream,  Avith  statues  of  Nep- 
tune and  Triton. 


BAPTISTERY. 


149 


The  Galleria  degli  Vffizi  is  perhaps  in  some  of  its  depart- 
ments the  finest  portrait-gallery  in  Florence.  Here  are  many 
of  the  best  works  of  Raphael  and  other  masters.  One  wants 
to  go  there  day  after  day.  Thei'e  would  be  always  a new 
beauty  to  l)ehold  and  a i\ew  joy  to  experience.  As  you  gaze 
upon  these  portraits  of  strength  and  deep  sympathy,  they 
seem  to  come  to  life  and  look  on  you  in  love.  One  portrait 
which  the  visitor  delights  to  look  upon  more  and  more  is  that 
of  Raphael,  painted  by  himself.  Death  cut  him  off  at  less 
than  forty  years  of  age.  He  was  l)orn  at  Urbino,  April  6th, 
1483,  and  died  at  Rome,  April  6tli,  1520,  just  thirty-seven  years 
of  age.  His  })ortrait  j)resents  the  delicacy  of  form  and  feat- 
ures we  should  (*xpect  in  one  so  mighty  in  the  delicate  art. 

The  striking  featirres  of  the  baptistery,  its  octagonal  form, 
splendid  dome,  and  indescriba))le  carvings,  have  made  it  the 
resort  of  thousands  for  seven  hundred  years.'  It  has  been 
used  as  a bajitistery  for  the  city  since  1128.  Before  that 
time  it  was  the  principal  cliureh  of  the  Florentines.  The 
bronze  doors  .'^o  widely  celebrated  are  the  product  of  the  fif- 
teentli  century.  Here  the  children  are  still  brought  to  be 
consecrated  to  God.  One  day  as  I visited  it  this  imposing 
ceremony  was  being  performed,  and  respecting  it  I have  the 
following  lines  written  at  the  moment : 

“ There  now  is  a young  mother,  with  her  babe  only  a few 
weeks  old,  and  by  her  the  youthful  father.  They  seem 
scarcely  twenty  years  of  age,  and  wear  a look  of  real  grace. 
He  is  a little  timid,  and  she  seems  a little  proud.  An  attend- 
ant of  the  priest  takes  the  rich  coverings  from  the  little  babe 
and  places  them  aside.  The  priest  comes  down  from  the 
altar,  and  by  his  side  is  an  assistant  who  carries  a long  lighted 
candle.  The  little  babe  is  in  snow-white  garments.  The 
young  father  holds  it,  both  parents  standing.  The  priest 
holds  his  hands  over  the  child’s  face  and  reads.  Then  he  puts 
something  in  its  mouth  and  reads  on.  Now  they  a.scend  to 
the  fountain.  The  priest  dips  his  fingers  in  water  and  touches 
them  to  the  forehead  and  now  to  the  back  of  the  neck 
of  the  little  babe.  Then  the  holy  water  is  poured  into  a 


150  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


golden  bowl  or  <li})2)er,  and  the  little  babe,  suspended  over  the 
large  bowl-fountain,  has  it  poured  over  its  head.  With  a 
cloth  he  dries  off  its  head.  It  is  turned  over  to  the  inotlier, 
and  she,  with  other  ladies,  wraps  it  up  in  those  richest  bauds 
and  garments.  The  father  steps  aside  and  pays  the  priest,  and 
now  they  are  off';  and  there  others  are  coining.  The  child 
did  not  look  to  be  nearly  a month  old.  But  baptizing  must 
be  done  soon ; for  if  dying  unattended  to,  the  child  goes  to 
purgatory,  as  they  teach,  and  furthermore  could  not  be  buried 
in  holy  ground.'’ 

Near  to  the  baptistery  is  the  great  Sante-Croce,  the  Westmin- 
ster of  Italy.  Though  containing  comparatively  few  tombs, 
they  are  marvelously  adorned.  It  is  six  hundred  years  old. 
To  the  right  of  the  aisle  is  the  tomb  of  Michael  Angelo,  whose 
remains  are  below,  and  who  died  an  illustrious  old  bachelor, 
artist,  and  poet,  at  Rome,  in  February,  1563.  He  lies  here,  in 
accordance  with  his  own  instruction,  so  that  at  the  resurrec- 
tion as  soon  as  he  comes  up,  as  he  said,  he  might  see  out  of 
the  door  the  dome  of  the  great  cathedral  which  stands  a few 
squares  away.  Here  too  is  the  grave  of  the  great  astronomer 
Galileo,  with  an  appropriate  and  imposing  monumental  tomb. 
He  held,  “Xevertlieless  the  world  does  move."  Here  is  a splen- 
did monument  to  Dante,  though  he  is  buried  at  Ravenna. 
In  the  Xew  Sacristy  of  the  Ralazz'j  Riccardi  is  the  grandest 
display  of  art  tliat  Avealth  could  purchase.  The  monuments 
to  the  Medici  family  are  held  to  be  Michael  Angelo’s  best  pro- 
ductions in  marlde.  The  one  is  the  ^lausoleum  of  Giuliano 
de  Medici  represented  as  the  general  of  the  church.  Below  in 
the  sarcophagus  are  the  remains  of  the  dead;  at  each  end  of 
the  tomb  are  statues  of  day  and  nigbt.  Across  the  room  is 
the  statue  of  Lorenzo  de  Medici,  Avho  in  contrast  Avith  Giuliano 
is  in  profound  meditation.  BeloAV  is  the  tomb,  and  at  one 
end  Evening  and  at  the  other  DaAvn,  rejiresented  in  AA'onderful 
marl)le.  The  statue  of  Lorenzo  has  in  the  face  evident  signs 
of  mischief ; and  yet  as  you  look  upon  it  the  hand,  the  face, 
the  arm,  and  the  very  forefinger  seem  to  come  to  life. 

The  ])icture-gallery  of  the  Palazzo  Pitti  is  one  of  the  finest 


CATHEDRAL  WORSHIPERS. 


151 


in  the  world;  and  here  where  the  works  of  the  masters  of 
Florence  in  its  palmiest  daj’s  look  down  on  you  with  the 
warmest  welcome,  which  entrances  you,  it  were  delightful  to 
dwell.  But  there  is  too  much  of  it.  There  are  dozens  of 
splendid  portraits  produced  by  Raphael ; and  withal,  these 
are  easily  discovered,  at  least  in  man}^  of  their  parts.  One  is 
astonished,  even  amazed,  at  the  immense  amount  of  work  done 
by  these  masters  of  art  in  a few  short  years.  The  impressions 
made  upon  the  mind  and  heart  by  traversing  the  splendid 
art-galleries  of  the  Florentine  j)co2»le  are  never  to  be  effaced. 
And  vet  how  narrow  and  how  deep  are  the  channels  of  great- 
ness and  tlie  sympathy  of  the  human  heart.  Tavo  distinct 
sources  furnish  the  masters  their  subjects.  From  them  they 
have  carved  an  iniperishal)le  fame.  The  first  source  is  the 
Christian  idea,  Avith  Christ  as  the  center  figure ; and  next  to 
this,  the  home  Avith  the  mother  and  her  babe  the  center  figures. 
From  these  tAvo  j)oints  the  artist  strikes  the  highest  and  finest 
sense  of  man.  There  are  landscape  and  portrait  i)ictures,  but 
none  that  compare  AA'ith  the  “human  face  divine”  in  the  Ma- 
donna and  the  Immanuel.  These  Avorks  outrank  all  others 
both  as  to  character  and  number.  These,  too,  are  the  paint- 
ings AA'liich  are  copied  by  scores  of  artists  at  Avork  in  the  gal- 
leries. Thus  tlie  most  illustrious  fields  of  art  taught  me  ancAV 
the  lesson  of  the  divinity  of  Christ  and  the  honor  and  love  of 
womanhood ; for  the  great  artists  have  only  photographed 
the  proiimndeit  feelings,  symi)atbies,  sentiments,  and  emo- 
tions of  the  human  heart  in  its  i)urest  and  loftiest  estate. 

The  cathedrals  of  Italy,  as  indeed  of  all  Euro])e,  are  always 
open  to  devout  Avorsliipers.  Tliey  are  also  open  to  A’isitors. 
But  let  it  be  rememl)ered  that  every  jjerson  entering  them  is 
expected  to  i)ay  a half-franc  or  more  for  that  privilege  — nor 
does  the  A’isitor  usually  regret  the  little  sum.  In  many  of 
the  cathedrals  of  Italy  poor  Avonien  are  passing  about  begging, 
Avhile  monks  at  different  hours  keep  up  Avhat  seemed  to  the 
Avriter  a mongrel  serA'ice.  Here  and  there  Avere  poor  old 
women  boAving  and  rising  and  kneeling  and  muttering  pray- 
ers to  the  images  before  the  altars,  and  to  the  pictures  Avhich 


152  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


hang  behind  the  shrines.  Now  and  then  a well-dressed  lady 
may  be  seen  looking  upon  the  portraits  painted  by  the  mas- 
ters, and  then  kneeling  before  them.  Tliese  seem  to  be  the 
images  through  which  they  look  up  to  God.  I often  wondered 
what  conception  of  Christ  they  gave  them.  Can  they  read 
him  there  as  we  read  him-  in  the  New  Testament?  How  far 
their  souls  have  been  cultivated  and  capacitated  to  read  Christ 
and  hallowed  truths  in  these  images  I know  not.  To  the 
ancients  and  to  the  ignorant  of  our  times  it  is  idolatry.  Pos- 
sibly it  is  not  so  in  Florence,  tlie  home  of  beauty  and  art.  In 
the  city  in  the_  skies  there  are  }>recious  stones  wliich  never 
tarnish,  and  pictures  of  fair  beauty  which  fade  not,  neither 
dim  with  years ; and  there  are  living  presentations  of  thought 
and  beauty  and  sympathy  and  unselfish  love  which  shine  as 
stars  forever  aiid  ever. 


CHAPTER  III. 


Milan  — Cathedral  of  Milan  — View  fiom  the  Tower  — Venice — People  — 
Incident  of  Fasliion  — Gondolas — Skill  in  Rowing — History  — Church 
of  St.  Mark  — Ashes  of  St.  Mark — ^Horses  of  Venice  — The  Piazza  of 
St.  Mark — Pigeons  — Palace  of  the  Doges  — Bridge  of  Sighs — Churches 
— Venetian  Art  — Paintings — Titian’s  Last  Work  — Works  of  the 
Masters  — The  Campanile — Sunset  from  the  Campanile — A Beauti- 
ful Lesson  of  Glory  and  Hope. 


HE  most  important  and  interesting  cities  of  northern 
Italy  are  Milan  and  Venice.  Milan  is  a beautiful  city 
of  two  hundred  thousand  people.  The  extensive  man- 
ufactories of  silk  and  woolen  goods  make  it  possess  large 
commercial  influence.  It  is  the  capital  of  Lombardy,  and 
has  a history  stretching  far  back  into  the  past.  The  Em- 
peror Frederick,  in  1162,  totally  destroyed  the  city;  but  it  was 
soon  rebuilt.  Its  long  and  severe  struggle  is  well  known  to 
the  historian.  Sometimes  possessed  by  the  Spaniards,  and 
then  by  the  Austrians,  it  passed  through  many  sore  trials. 
For  the  last  thirty  years  and  more  it  has  been  united  with 
the  kingdom  of  Italy,  and  has  made  more  progress  than  any 
other  city  of  that  kingdom. 

I had  seen  cities  enough  in  Europe  to  satisfy  curiosity,  but 
it  was  well  worth  the  travel  of  a few  hundred  miles  to  look 
upon  the  Cathedral  of  Milan.  It  is,  perhaps,  as  a whole,  the 
most  beautiful  building  on  the  globe.  After  St.  Peters,  at 
Rome,  and  the  cathedral  at  Seville,  it  is  the  largest  cathedral 
in  Europe.  Its  length  inside  is  four  hundred  and  seventy- 
seven  feet,  and  it  is  one  hundred  and  eighty-three  feet  wide. 
The  wonderful  dome,  two  hundred  and  twenty  feet  high,  and 

the  tower  three  hundred  and  sfxtv  feet  above  the  streets 

153 


154  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


around  the  cathedral  afford  a grand  view  of  Italy.  The  roof 
has  almost  one  hundred  Gothic  turrets,  while  over  two  thou- 
sand marble  statues  adorn  the  turrets  and  arches  in  the  wall 
and  various  parts  of  the  exterior.  It  was  founded  about  five 
hundred  years  ago,  and  is  yet  receiving  additions  almost  every 
year.  Of  its  surpassing  beauty  the  reader  can  form  some  con- 
ception from  our  fine  illustration.  Some  one  has  truthfully 
said  that  it  is  beautiful  enough  for  an  ornament  upon  a bride- 
cake. The  building  is  in  the  usual  cruciform  shajie,  with 
double  aisles  and  transept,  with  splendid  columns.  There  are 
no  less  than  fifty-two  massive  pillars  which  support  the  inte- 
rior arch,  each  one  of  which  is  twelve  feet  in  diameter,  the 
tops  of  which,  instead  of  capitals,  are  mounted  with  marble 
statues  set  in  niches.  The  most  entrancing  outlook  in  all 
Italy  is  from  tlie  tower  of  the  cathedral.  Nearly  two  hundred 
steps  inside,  reaching  the  roof,  and  tliree  hundred  more  on 
the  outside,  bring  one's  weaiw  feet  to  stand  in  tbe  tower  over- 
looking tbe  city  and  regions  bc3’ond.  The  citv  Avas  covered 
and  filled  Avith  fog  on  the  morning  selected  to  make  the 
ascent;  but  upon  reaching  the  tower,  imagine  the  sur2)rise 
AA’hen  the  air  Avas  found  clear  as  crystal.  What  scener}'  spread 
out  before  the  eye  1 The  fog  and  clouds  beloAA'  onh’  seemed  to 
make  the  distant  mountains  more  j)icturesque.  Far  to  the 
east  AA'ere  the  dim  outlines  of  the  Apennines;  AvestAA'ard 
stretched  out  the  bold  form  of  the  Alps.  All  of  the  peaks 
could  readily  be  discerned.  IMont  Blanc  and  Monte  llosa 
Avere  full  in  sight,  covered  AA’ith  snoAv,  Avhile  the  Matterhorn, 
towering  slender-like  far  into  the  heaA^ens,  Avith  its  ice-ribbed 
peaks  s[>arkling  in  the  rising  sun,  presented  a cone  of  sj>lendor 
such  as  I had  never  seen.  Then  far  to  the  right,  a hundred 
miles  distant,  stretching  aAva}'  to  SAvitzerland,  the  snoAA\y 
peaks  of  the  Alps  glistened  and  sparkled  in  the  sun  like  dia- 
monds in  some  great  fire.  Oh,  the  beauty  of  these  Italian 
skies  1 'Whether  ui)on  the  mighty  orbs  or  the  fair  landscapes, 
or  upon  the  snoAV-crested  Alps,  the_v  s]>read  out  a sheen  of 
clear  and  crystal-like  beauty  AA'hich  fills  the  eye  and  heart 
Avith  images  of  a fairer  clime  and  SAveeter  skies  in  the  land 
above ! 


CATHEDRAL  OF  MILAN. 


CATHEDEAL  OF  MILAN. 


156  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


Venice,  situated  on  the  north-west  corner  of  the  Adriatic 
Sea,  is  the  most  unique  city  on  the  globe.  Thexe  is  nothing 
to  he  seen  bearing  a comparison  with  it.  It  is  literally  a city 
built  in  the  sea.  While  it  now  has  a population  of  over 
one  hundred  and  twenty-live  tliousaud,  the  sea  washes  the 
door  of  almost  every  cottage  and  mansion.  Many  of  its 
people  are  possessed  of  vast  wealth,  and  yet  perhaps  thirty 
tliousand  are  the  veriest  i)au])ers.  The  people  differ  from 
those  of  southern  Italy,  and  aj)pear  in  manner  more  like  the 
French  people.  Among  the  wealtliv  there  is.  a great  love  of 
dress,  and  an  exquisite  taste.  The  features  of  many  of  the 
women  resemble  those  of  the  Oreek  women.  During  my  ab- 
sence from  America  the  style  of  ladies’  hats  had  changed, 
and  the  beaver  hat  had  been  adopted,  ^'isiting  Venice  after 
months'  absence  in  the  far  East,  1 was  surprised  — it  was  then 
late  in  December — to  see  all  the  ladi('s  wearing  those  beau- 
tiful, large  black  hats.  I supposed  in  my  ignorance  that 
this  dress  was  peculiar  to  the  beautiful  Venetian  women, 
whose  dark  eyes  looked  bcAvitchingly  out  from  beneath  these 
approi>riate  coverings  of  the  head.  In  Paris  and  London  I 
met  the  same  hat, — and,  behold,  it  met  me  in  America  also ! 
This  much  I must  say  for  the  Venetian  woimm,  they  followed 
the  style  more  universally  -than  Americans  do;  for  they  all 
wore  those  hats. 

Venice  is  situated  in  the  lagoon,  or  shallow  part  of  the  Adri- 
atic Sea ; and  its  fifteen  thousand  buildings,  })alaces,  churches, 
and  dwellings  are  built  on  three  large  and  one  hundred  and 
fourteen  small  islands.  The  front  yards  in  Venice  are  water, 
the  streets  are  canals  of  water,  the  horst-s  and  carriages  are 
gondolas  and  boats,  the  side-walk  is  the  salty  sea-water.  The 
foundations  of  the  splendid  palaces  and  churches  stand  up 
out  of  the  Avater.  Going  to  the  door  of  the  house,  if  you  Avish 
to  take  a journey  “up  toAvn”  or  “doAvn  tOAvn,”  you  call, 
^^Poppe,"  or  beckon  to  a gondolier  to  come  for  you  Avith  his  lit- 
tle, long,  black,  slim  boat,  Avith  its  hearse-like  cabin  in  the 
middle,  called  a gondola,  and  .soon  you  sit  quietly  on  a soft, 
black-leathern  seat.  The  gondolier,  standing  in  the  rear  of  the 


GONDOLAS. 


157 


gondola  holding  one  long,  slender  oar  in  hand  with  which  to 
row  the  boat,  is  ready  to  drive  you  where  j'ou  wish  to  go. 
Probably  another  will  wish  to  row,  which  will  double  the 
cost.  If  you  think  a franc  (twenty  cents)  per  hour  and  a 
gratuity  of  a few  centimes  is  enough  to  pay,  you  need  only  to 
say  to  the  helpt»r,  “ baAa  unnf’  and  he  gets  out.  Show  the 
gondolier  the  watch  and  tell  him  “all’  ora,”  and  you  have 
it  by  the  hour,  and  he  drives  you  where  you  direct.  When 
you  halt  at  a church  or  at  some  place  you  wish  to  visit,  some 
poor,  beggarly  old  man  will  be  there  to  persist  in  helping 
you  out.  You  had  as  well  allow  him  to  do  so,  for  he  never 
expects  to  see  you  again ; and  he  will  do  it  in  spite  of  your 
protests,  and  then  claim  a few  centimes  of  you  for  service. 
The  precision  with  which  a gondola  is  rowed  is  wonderful. 
The  character  of  the  stroke  and  the  feathering  of  the  oar 
through  the  water  on  its  return  for  the  stroke  is  the  only 
way  of  steering.  The  gondolier  never  removes  his  oar  out 
of  the  water,  but  plies  it  back  and  forth  with  a grace  and 
precision  which  turns  a sharj)  corner  and  passes  the  slender 
boat  within  an  inch  of  the  stone  corner  or  a passing  gondola, 
but  never  touches  them.  On  turning  a corner  the  gondolier 
sings  out,  “ gid  e,”  udiich  means,  boat  ahead.  If  answered, 
he  continues,  “ preme''  (pass  to  the  right) ; or,  “stall”  (pass  to 
the  left).  The  grand  canal  is  wide  and  deep  enough  for  large 
boats,  while  most  of  the  watery  streets  are  narrow  and  the 
water  only  a few  feet  deep.  There  is  a slight  tide  of  about 
two  feet  in  rise  and  fall. 

The  marvelous  history  of  Venice  and  the  Venetian  republic 
and  the  conquests  of  this  empire  in  the  sea  adds  a peculiar 
luster  and  charm  to  everything  one  looks  upon.  While  its 
early  history  is  clouded  in  obscurity,  for  the  last  twelve  hun- 
dred years  it  has  been  a great  factor  in  eastern  Europe.  In 
the  seventh  century — A.  D.  697 — it  is  claimed  the  first  doge, 
Paolo  Luca  Anafesto,  presided  over  a republic,  though  for 
many  centuries  before  a republic  flourished  here.  Tradition 
asserts  that  in  A.  D.  829  the  body  of  St.  Mark  was  brought 
here  and  buried  under  the  Church  of  St.  Mark.  It  is  not  a 


158  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


little  impressive  to  stand  where  so  generally  accepted  tradi- 
tion asserts  the  ashes  of  that  servant  of  God  were  laid  to  rest. 
The  commerce  and  military  prowess  of  this  Queen  of  the 
Adriatic  made  it  for  centuries  the  military  power  of  a large 
portion  of  the  eastern  world. 

The  Church  of  St.  Mark,  is  the  grandest,  gaudiest,  gloomiest 
building  the  writer  ever  entered.  It  is  in  its  present  appear- 
ance an  oriental  or  Byzantine  structure,  here  and  tliere 
touched  with  European  finishing.  The  building  is  in  the 
form  of  a Greek  cross.  It  has  five  domes, — one  in 'the  center 
and  one  at  the  end  of  each  arm.  It  was  built  earh^  in  the 
tenth  century.  Its  greatest  length  is  five  hundred  and  sev- 
enty-six feet,  and  its  greatest  Avidth  two  hundred  and  sixty- 
nine  feet.  It  is  literally  covered  within  b}*  mosaic  Avork 
AAWOught  into  A'arious  pictures.  These  mosaics,  it  is  said, 
cover  nearl}^  fifty  thousand  square  feet,  and  are  striking  in 
their  oriental  features  and  colors,  while  the  gilding  and  ori- 
ental marble  produce  an  effect  not  found  in  any  other  archi- 
tecture. There  is  a strange  mingling  of  the  fantastic,  the 
grand,  and  the  gloomy.  At  eA’ery  view  there  is  a richness 
of  carving,  Avith  scores  of  columns,  oriental  marble,  relief 
pictures  of  the  apostles,  in  brass,  representations  of  Christ 
and  A'arious  per.sons  in  rich  mo.saic  AA’ork.  The  entrance  to 
the  church  is  under  a majesQ'  of  antique  columns  mounted 
here  and  there  in  order  upon  the  capitals  of  each  other,  and 
under  the  only  horses  in  Venice.  These  four  horses  of  gilded 
bronze,  five  feet  high,  are  of  fine  Avorkmanship.  They  are  be- 
lieved to  be  the  Avork  of  some  Roman  of  the  time  of  Nero. 
It  is  thought  that  they  once  adorned  the  triumphal  arch  of 
Xero,  at  Rome.  They  Avere  taken  to  Constantinople  by  order 
of  Constantine,  where  they  remained  until  A.  D.  120o,  Avhen 
they  Avere  brought  to  Venice  by  Marino  Zeno.  X'apoleon  I. 
carried  them  to  Paris  in  1797,  where  they  adorned  a triumphal 
arch.  In  1815  they  Avere  brought  again  and  set  up  in  their 
place  before  the  great  Avindow  in  the  front  of  St.  Mark’s 
Church  in  Venice. 

The  Piazza  of  St.  Mark,  a public  square  nearly  six  hundred 


PALACE  OF  THE  DOGES. 


lo9 


feet  long  and  ninctj'  steps  wide,  is  the  great  gathering-place 
of  the  Venetians.  It  is  splendidly  paved  with  marble,  and 
surrounded  with  palatial  buildings,  under  which  on  three  sides 
are  splendid  shops,  where  the  finest  of  Venetian  goods  are 
sold.  To  the  east  end  is  the  Church  of  St.  Mark,  and  the  Pal- 
ace of  the  Doges.  In  the  evening  this  square  is  the  fashion- 
able promenade  for  the  people  who  crowd  it  till  late  at  night. 

Xo  one  who  has  ever  visited  Venice  will  forget  the  vast  flocks 
of  pigeons  which  collect  in  this  square  every  day  between  one 
and  two  o’clock.  The  story  is  told  that  six  hundred  years 
ago  an  admiral  named  Dandolo  received  and  communicated 
messages  by  carrier  pigeons  which  enabled  him  to  gain  signal 
victories,  and  since  then  the  people  of  Venice  have  venerated 
and  carefully  fed  the  descendants  of  those  pigeons.  Every  day 
at  two  o’clock  they  are  fed  in  the  cornices  of  the  surround- 
ing buildings.  A clock  of  marvelous  design,  situated  in  a 
tower  on  the  north  siile  of  the  square,  strikes  the  fractions 
of  the  hour;  but  to  these  strokes  the  })igeons  pay  no  heed. 
One  day  the  writer  saw  a dozen  persons  feeding  these  pigeons 
on  the  pavement  of  the  court;  but  the  instant  the  clock 
struck  two  all  the  birds  with  a bound  and  a flutter  flew  to 
their  crannies  in  the  siuTounding  buildings,  where  they  were 
fed.  Thus  they  do  every  day,  and  no  liberal  hand  can  entice 
them  below  when  once  the  clock  strikes  two. 

The  Palace  of  the  Doges  contains  enough  of  splendid  archi- 
tecture, art,  and  comparative  antiejuity  to  entrance  one  for 
weeks.  It  was  first  erected  more  than  a thousand  years  ago ; 
and  though  five  times  consumed  by  fire,  it  always  rose  from 
the  ashes  in  greater  splendor,  and  for  more  than  five  hundred 
years  has  stood  in  its  magnificence  the  delight  of  the  Vene- 
tians. The  Gothic  facade  in  the  west  is  a wonder  of  art  in 
architecture  and  sculi)ture.  Vast  colonnades,  supported  by 
almost  a hundred  columns,  below  and  above,  reached  by 
splendid  marble  steps  adorned  at  every  side  by  magnificent 
statues  and  reliefs,  present  to  one  as  he  approaches  a concep- 
tion of  magnificence  such  as  he  seldom  experiences.  It  would 
require  pages  to  describe  the  spacious  chambers,  halls,  and 


160  FliAXCE,  ITAT.y,  GREECE,  AXD  TURKEY. 


corridors,  eloquent  with  illustrious  art,  and  museums  filled 
with  all  manner  of  things  curious  and  anti(iue.  Titian,  Tin- 
toretto, Giovanni,  and  other  illustrious  artists  of  the  Venetian 
school  of  art,  made  the  Palace  of  the  Doges  one  vast  museum. 

The  “ Bridge  of  Sighs,”  across  the  canal  on  the  cast  side  of 
the  palace,  connects  the  royal  residence  and  capitol  with  the 
gloomiest  prison  one  could  well  imagine.  The  bridge  has  a 
double  passage  within,  so  that  prisoners  might  be  removed  to 
the  prison  without  meeting  or  seeing  any  one  passing  the 
other  way.  Its  exterior  is  adorned  with  very  beautiful  carv- 
ings, and  seen  from  below  as  one  passes  beneath  on  a gondola 
it  is  indeed  a handsome  arcli  structure.  The  many  manacled 
forms  and  sore  feet  and  sad  hearts  which  in  other  ages  have 
passed  its  gloomy  }>ortals  under  sentence  of  torture  and  death, 
or  life-impri.sonment  in  the  little  stone-walled  dungeons  of 
the  prison,  fittingly  enough  dedicated  it  the  “ Bridge  of  Sighs.” 
Lord  B^'i’on,  who  it  is  said  had  himself  for  hours  inclosed  in 
one  of  these  dungeons  to  acquire  some  knowledge  of  the  feel- 
ing of  a prisoner,  wrote, — 

“ I stood  in  Venice,  on  the  Bridge  of  Sighs; 

A palace  and  a prison  on  each  hand : 

I saw  from  out  the  wave  her  structures  rise 
As  from  the  stroke  of  the  enchanter’s  wand : 

A thousand  years  their  cloudy  wings  expand 
Around  me,  and  a dying  glory  smiles 
O’er  the  far  times,  when  many  a subject  land 
Looked  at  the  winged  Lion’s  marble  piles, 

Where  Venice  sate  in  state,  throned  on  her  hundred  isles!” 

The  dark  dungeons,  half  fallen  into  ruins,  where  criminals 
and  political  conspirators  were  confined  and  executed,  present 
as  somber  and  melancholy  a view  of  Venetian  events  in  other 
years  as  one  could  well  bear.  With  chastened  thoughts  I re- 
turned through  the  narrow  ])ridge  over  which  criminals  and 
prisoners  having  once  passed  never  again  saw  the  clear  Italian 
skies. 

Venice  has  many  interesting  churches,  which  with  their 
splendid  architecture  and  costly  altars,  and  treasures  of  Ve- 
netian art  from  the  hands  of  the  masters,  well  deserve  careful 
study. 


BRIDGE  OF  SIGHS. 


IGl 


BRIDGE  OP  SIGHS. 

Venice  had  a palmy  art-gchool  of  its  own,  which  made  the 

Venetian  masters.  Venetian  art  differs  from  all  other  in  its 

power  to  comhine  the  richest  and  strongest  colors  in  the  most 

delicate  and  trnthfnl  ex})ressions.  Its  rich  colors  at  the  first 
11 


162  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


dazzle  one,  and  seem  wild.  Closer  study,  however,  reveals  a 
charm  and  beauty  which  Aviu  the  heart.  I can  only  men- 
tion a few  of  the  paintings  which  I found  most  interest  in 
studying.  Tintoretto’s  “Paradise,”  in  the  Ducal  Palace,  in  the 
large  room  where  the  Xobili,  the  highest  authority  in  the 
republic,  formerly  held  its' meetings,  is  perhajis  the  largest  oil- 
painting  in  the  world,  and  contains  hundreds  of  faces  in 
what  seems  utter  confusion.  Its  labyrinths  of  human  faces 
bewilder  one.  The  “ Last  .Tudgnumt,”  by  Palma  Giovanni,  on 
the  wall  of  the  voting-hall  of  the  saiue  ])alace,  is  a .striking 
picture,  both  for  its  size  and  peculiarity.  It  contains  three 
parts  — paradi.se,  hades,  and  hell.  In  each  of  these  are  a vast 
number  of  faces,  changing  in  expression  to  suit  the  design. 
A careful  study  of  the  upper,  middle,  and  lower  pictures 
shows  you  that  the  master  has  jmt  one  flice  in  all  three. 
It  proves,  indeed,  to  be  the  face  of  his  wife ; and  so  it  is  that 
he  put  his  wife  in  hades,  paradise,  and  hell,  — not  by  any 
means  the  only  hu.sl)and  who,  speaking  figuratively,  has  done 
the  same  ungrateful  thing.  Giovanni,  hoAvever,  oAved  his 
success  largely  to  his  Avife;  for  it  Avas  her  picture  that  he 
could  produce  Avith  the  greatest  felicity,  and  she  became  his 
ideal  of  the  Madonna.  Tintoretto's  “Descent  from  the  Cro.ss” 
and  the  “ Resurrection  ” are  also  among  the  most  touching 
and  poAverful  jiaiutings  in  Venice.  These  are  in  the  Church 
of  S/.  Ginryin  Maggiore.  The  delicate-faced  bust  of  Titian,  in 
the  Church  of  Giovanni  e Paolo,  is  looked  upon  Avith  much 
interest.  Indeed,  in  every  church  and  museum  there  are 
great  numbers  of  these  choicest  Avorks  of  art,  Avhich  by  tlieir 
hundreds  in  number  and  marvelous  beauty  have  made  all 
^"enice  a museAim  of  semi-sacred  things.  It  is  marvelous  to 
see  the  immense  amount  of  work  done  by  these  old  Venetian 
artists.  Some  of  tliem  literally  covered  miles  and  miles  of 
canvas  Avith  their  poetic,  historic,  and  ideal  conceptions. 
The  Academy  of  Art  is  filled  Avith  the  work  of  the  masters. 
The  “ Assumption,”  painted  by  Titian  OA-er  three  hundred 
and  fifty  years  ago,  is  the  master-piece  of  the  collection.  It 
really  presents  the  Virgin  Mary  in  the  act  of  ascension  above 


PAINTINGS. 


163 


the  clouds,  attended  with  the  angels,  while  below,  intently 
gazing,  are  the  wondering  apostles.  The  various  shades  and 
appearances  of  the  angels  about  and  above  the  Virgin  show  a 
skill  of  the  master  only  excelled  w'hen  he  produced  the  joy- 
ful, intent  attitude  of  the  Virgin  as  she  looks  heavenward, 
whither  she  ascends  to  meet  the  shining  face  of  the  Father. 
On  the  side  wall  of  the  same  chamber  hang  two  pictures  of 
Titian  which  arrest  one  with  deep  veneration.  The  first,  “Visit- 
ation,” presents  the  mother  of  Christ  and  the  infant  Messiah. 
There  is  nothing  so  striking  in  this  small  picture  as  the 
assertion  that  it  is  Titian’s  first  work  now  known  to  be  in  ex- 
istence. Close  beside  it  is  his  last  picture,  “The  Entombment,” 
on  which  he  was  engaged,  in  1-376,  when  he  died,  at  the  great 
age  of  ninety-nine  yeai's.  The  dead  body  of  Christ  is  the  center 
figure.  Joseph  suspends  the  body  upon  his  own  knees,  while 
to  the  right,  sad  and  tender,  Mary  in  her  riglit  hand  holds  the 
pierced  hand  of  her  Lord,  while  her  left  su2)ports  liis  head. 
Bi'liind  her  the  other  Mary  witli  her  right  hand  extended  fear- 
lessh'  puslies  back  the  grim,  gray,  terrible  monster  Deatli,  who 
in  the  form  of  an  old  man  with  sword  in  hand  is  determined 
on  destruction.  To  the  left  .Joanna  sustains  the  cross,  while 
close  above  an  angel  holds  the  lamp — sweet  emblem  of  eternal 
life.  Placing  these  two  pictures  side  by  side,  the  one  repre- 
senting the  first  and  the  other  the  last  employment  of  Titian’s 
lofty  soul  and  skilled  hand,  Ave  have  a portrait  Avithin  itself 
full  of  the  most  beautiful  suggestions.  Would  that  our  lives 
Avere  so  fully  from  the  first  to  the  last  interwoven  with  our 
Master’s  life  and  sacrifice. 

I closed  my  observations  in  Venice  by  ascending  the  Cam- 
panile, a square  isolated  toAver  three  hundred  and  twenty-tAvo 
feet  in  height,  Avhich  stands  in  the  piazza  of  St.  Mark.  This 
tower  has  stood  in  its  ^Aresent  form  over  three  hundred  years, 
and  with  amendments  for  almost  ten  centuries.  The  ascent 
is  by  a Avinding  inclined  plane,  Avhich  is  much  easier  than 
steps.  The  vieAV  from  its  summit  just  before  the  sunset 
hour  is  beyond  all  description.  Below  you  see  the  unique 
city  coursed  through  and  through  by  almost  a hundred  and 


164  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY 


fifty  watery  streets,  which  spread  out  a picture  of  delight. 
Far  away  through  the  air  are  the  towering  heights  of  the 
Alps,  and  westward  and  southward  the  Adriatic  Sea,  in  which 
api)arently  the  sun  goes  down  like  a Avorld  of  fire  in  a bosom 
of  blood.  The  sea  of  blood  seemed  to  soften  to  a pale  red  as  it 
skirted  the  clouds.  The  -heavens  shone  like  burnished  gold 
cut  here  and  there  in  threads  by  the  rays  of  the  sun  and 
shafts  of  thicker  clouds.  Half  of  tlie  great  orb  appeared  be- 
low and  half  above  the  sea.  First  in  the  sea  it  resembled  a 
great  globe,  then  a hogshead,  then  a tall  goblet,  then  an  in- 
verted cup  as  the  sea  grew  darker  and  the  heavens  were  shaded 
b}-  a reddish  hue.  The  image  of  the  sun  in  the  sea  became 
smaller  and  smaller,  Imt  red  as  fire;  now  a crescent,  then 
more  slender,  like  the  ring  on  a lady's  finger;  at  last  only  a 
scarh't  thread  which  hung  in  a dark-blue  cloud,  while  the 
clouds  and  the  sea  mingled  together  leaving  no  traces  or  lines 
of  meeting.  Far  above  the  crimson  and  golden-lighted  lines 
shooting  in  the  clouds  rose  more  than  a dozen  conical  jieaks 
of  the  Alps  in  dusky  clouds  as  mantles  stretching  from  the 
Adriatic  northward  far  into  Austria.  As  the  sun  thus  sunk 
to  rest  in  its  bed  of  golden  glory,  the  great  bells  in  the  Cam- 
panile rang  out  over  tlie  islands  and  red-roofed  dwellings,  and 
along  the  canals  on  the  ears  of  the  nobility  and  beggar,  and 
cold,  lifeless  statues  alike,  telling  all  that  the  close  of  day  had 
come.  In  such  a sea  of  transfiguring  glory,  often  unseen  by 
mortal  eye,  sinks  at  last  to  rest  the  sun  of  the  good  man 
when  he  dies.  Alas  ! we  so  often  hear  only  the  mournful  toll- 
ing knell  which  tells  us  he  is  gone ! We  are  too  near  the  earth 
to  behold  the  sea  of  glory  and  the  Alpine  peaks  of  eternal  life 
behind  the  transparent  clouds.  Mourner — bereaved  brother 
or  sister ! ascend  the  divine  Campanile  of  faith  and  hope  and 
behold  the  glory  already  shared  by  the  loved  ones  departed, 
and  the  splendor  of  your  own  setting  sun ! 


CHAPTER  IV. 


From  Florence  to  Rome — Rural  Scenery  — Valley  of  the  Tiber  — Seven 
Hills  of  Rome — History  of  Rome  — Population  — People  — Sabbath 
in  Rome — Ruins  of  Rome — Baths  of  Titus  — Palace  of  Xero  — Trial 
of  Paul — Roman  Forum  — An  Incident — Mamertine  Prison  — Arch 
of  Titus — Arch  of  Constantine — Forum  of  Trajan  — Tomb  of  Trajan 
— Palace  of  Caligula  — Baths  of  Diocletian  aud  Caracalla  — Royal  Pal- 
ace— Colosseum. 


^Journey  from  Florence  to  Rome  is  a delightful  one. 
■> 

■’  For  many  miles  romantic  hills  are  covered  witli  vint- 
age  and  fruits  like  a garden.  There  are  no  fences, 
Jjjja  yet  all  is  divided  into  small  lots  of  land  by  the  rows  of 
1^  olive  and  fig  trees,  and  other  fruits.  The  trees  are  not 
! tall,  but  in  many  respects  remind  one  of  a thickly-set 
peach-orchard,  with  ])lum-trees  intersper.seil.  Everywhere  the 
hills  rise  in  bettutiful  array  of  green  and  gold.  At  our  en- 
trance to  Italy  the  hills  and  mountains  were  terraced.  In 
this  part  of  Italy  the  orclnirds  aud  farms  run  far  up  and  over 
the  tallest  heights,  without  terraces.  Here  and  there  is  a 
small  grass-field,  and  a woman  watching  one  or  two  pigs  as 
they  feed  in  it,  while  she  is  busy  plaiting  straw.  Now  there 
are  some  cattle  feeding.  The  cattle  in  the  field  and  the  oxen 
which  are  at  work  are  all  white,  and  much  more  delicate  and 
fleet  than  any  seen  in  America.  The  Italian  oxen  look  as  if 
they  could  travel  briskly.  They  are  fierce,  sprightly-looking 
fellows.  There  is  delightful  scenery  all  the  way  down  the 
valley  of  the  Anio.  On  the  summit  of  these  hills  are  towns 
and  towers  and  fortresses  which  have  been  strongholds  for 
centuries ; for  we  are  j>assing  over  the  battle-field  of  Han- 
nibal, more  than  two  hundred  years  before  Christ.  Here  amid 

165 


106  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE^  AND  TURKEY. 


the  vintage  and  city-crowned  hills  and  olive-dressed  slopes  the 
old  Romans  were  defeated  by  Hannibal  in  May,  R.  C.  217. 

Seventy  miles  from  Rome  you  enter  the  wooded  valley  of 
the  Tiber.  Many  tunnels  are  passed,  and  old  towns  are 
seen  nestling  among  wild  hills;  for  indeed  the  hills  are  wild, 
and  many  of  their  heights  bald.  The  ravines  and  cuts  are 
deep.  For  miles  the  train  runs  along  the  gravelly  bed  of  the 
Tiber,  which  here  is  but  a small  creek.  Sometimes  I saw 
the  peoj)le  hauling  in  grapes  on  donkeys’  backs.  Great  bas- 
kets hung  on  either  side  of  the  poor  donkey,  and  a man  sat 
astride  behind.  It  is  a marvel  that  the  poor  things  do  not  break 
down  or  break  up.  There  are  but  few  vehicles.  Once  in  a 
great  while  I got  a glimpse  of  an  ox-cart.  Thirty  miles  from 
Rome  the  valley  of  the  Tiber  widens  to  a great  plain.  There 
it  looks  familiar,  for  there  are  fields  large  and  wide.  You 
could  scarcely  tell  it  from  the  valley  south  of  i\It.  Jackson, 
Virginia,  looking  to  the  right  as  you  should  come  into  the 
village  on  the  train  from  the  south,  only  the  mountains  are 
smaller  and  more  broken.  There  were  ])iles  of  yellow  corn  in 
the  field.  There  were  ricks  of  hay  and  straw,  and  cattle 
and  sheep  and  horses,  reminding  one  of  America.  But  there 
are  few  houses  in  this  A'alley.  As  the  valley  widens  houses 
bect)ine  more  numerous.  To  the  right  from  the  right  win- 
dow of  the  car  as  it  rolled  along  the  l)anks  of  the  Tiber 
I looked  down  over  the  glassy  stream  and  caught  the  first 
sight  of  the  eternal  city,  renowned  for  thousands  of  years, 
and  then  of  the  dome  of  St.  Peter’s  towering  up  like  the  sur- 
rounding seven  hills  on  which  Rome  sat  and  ruled  the  world. 
The  train  hurried  along  for  the  five  or  six  remaining  miles, 
darted  under  the  arches  of  the  wall  and  rolled  past  old  ruins 
and  splendid  buildings;  and  I was  one  thousand  and  one 
hundred  miles  south  of  London,  alighting-  from  tlie  train  in 
the  immortal  city  — Rome. 

The  famous  “ Seven  Hills,”  the  Aventine,  Cjelian,  Esquiline, 
Viminal,  Quirinal,  Capitoline,  and  Palatine  are  not  as  easily 
traced  now  as  when  the  story  of  Romulus  and  Remus  was 
planned,  dating  the  origin  of  the  city  to  753  B.  C.  I had  to 


HISTORY  OF  ROME. 


167 


search  for  their  identity.  Ancient  Rome  is  largely  unin- 
habited, and  is  a waste  of  ruins.  The  Aventine,  Palatine, 
and  Ca^lian  are  in  desolation.  Where  there  were  once  busy 
streets,  now  there  are  vast  vineyards.  The  river  Tiber  runs 
through  the  city,  and  is,  as  Horace  stj’led  it,  a ‘‘  turbid  ” 
stream  about  sixty  feet  wide  and  twenty  deep.  Fourteen 
miles  below,  it  empties  its  dirty  water  into  the  Mediterranean. 
The  prc.^ent  population  of  Rome  is  not  so  ea.sily  determined. 
It  is  estimated  at  two  hundred  and  eight}'-five  thou.sand. 
Seven  years  ago  the  census  showed  it  to  be  two  hundred  and 
thirty-seven  thousand, three  hundred  and  twenty-one,  of  wliom 
five  thousand  were  Jews,  three  thousand  five  hundred  other 
sects,  and  four  tliousand  Protestants.  The  people  are  slow, 
and  take  the  world  easy.  One  half  the  ])eo})le  ca'n  neither 
read  nor  write.  Tiie  streets,  with  the  exception  of  a few 
prominent  ones,  are  exceedingly  narrow  and  broken.  The 
shops  are  small,  and  poorly  ventilated.  The  pavements  are 
excellent,  yet  few  of  the  streets  have  sidewalks.  Women  are 
to  be  seen  everywhere  sitting  out  on  the  streets  about  the 
doors  of  their  shops  and  dwellings,  knitting,  sewing,  and  nurs- 
ing children — -of  whom  there  are  thousands.  The  men  are 
poorly  clad,  and  the  donkey-teams  are  odd-looking  things. 
The  women  are  dark-complexioned  and  homely,  and  the  men 
less  strong  in  appearance  than  I had  expected  to  see  them. 
There  are  fine  horses  and  carriages  in  great  numbers,  which 
are  chiefly  sustained  by  foreign  travelers,  of  whom  the  city  is 
constantly  largely  filled,  many  going  there  to  pass  the  winters 
and  to  survey  the  scenes  of  interest,  the  end  of  which  is  never 
reached.  There  are  many  cathedrals  of  great  splendor  and 
adornment  These  can  hardly  be  said  to  be  for  the  people. 
A cathedral  in  America  is  a place  for  the  assembling  of  Cath- 
olics to  worship  after  their  fashion.  Here  it  seems  to  be  a 
place  for  gaudy  display,  superstitious  tablets  about  popes  and 
St.  Peter,  who  probably  was  never  in  Rome,  and  for  the  priests 
and  monks  who  may  be  seen  strolling  about  in  their  long 
black  or  gray  gowns  in  all  the  streets,  to  celebrate  mass  in. 
Few  of  the  people  attend  these  cathedrals.  I attended  a Sab- 


168  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


bath-morning  service  in  St.  Peters,  and  to  my  surprise  there 
were  not  probably  over  a hundred  persons  ]>resent  to  attend 
the  mass.  Many  of  these  seemed  to  be  visitors.  At  other 
cathedrals  I found  even  less.  Protestant  churches  are  doing 
something  in  missionary  labors,  and  good  is  being  done 
through  the  Free  Christian  Church  of  Italy;  but  the  great 
throngs  seem  to  he  as  sheep  having  really  no  shepherd. 

There  is  no  Sabbath  in  Rome.  So  far  as  I could  tell  there 
was  not  one  store  or  shoj)  in  ten  closed  in  respect  to  the  Sab- 
bath. There  may  be  a few  more  persons  on  tlie  streets  with 
clean  clothes  on,  but  the  shops  and  streets  are  as  full  of  people 
as  on  other  days.  Thousands  in  open  .sin,  ignorance  and  dirt, 
of  the  poor  dupes  the  Catholic  Church  calls  its  own,  Avander 
about  on  God’s  day  or  attend  to  their  business,  Avhile  a few 
monk-!  are  chanting  mass  in  the  cathedrals  in  the  hearing  of 
a few  old  women,  deformed  or  bent  down  by  :ige,  and  a few 
younger  ones  bent  doAvn  by  superstition.  l"p  in  the  Vatican 
the  pope,  pretended  vicegerent  of  Christ  on  earth,  is  pent  up 
in  his  chambers,  too  holy  even  to  exhibit  himself  at  the  Avin- 
doAv  of  St.  Peters  to  the  poor  dupes  of  superstition.  They  call 
him  “infallible.”  Along  these  streets  I longed  to  j>reach  the 
go.^pel  of  Christ  in  the  language  of  the  peojile.  But  this  the 
laAV  Avould  forbid.  There  is  uoav  room  for  a dozen  Pauls. 

The  ruins  of  ancient  Rome  are  only  in  part  di.scoA'ered, 
and  many  of  them  must  lie  buried  fori'A'er.  Tliose  Avhich  have 
been  excavated  are  from  fifteen  to  forty  feet  IxdoAv  tlie  level  of 
the  present  .streets  of  the  city.  Churclu'S  have  been  built  upon 
the  toj)s  of  former  temples,  and  palaces  and  batlis  of  emperors 
erected  just  above  the  ruins  of  former  j)alaces. 

The  baths  of  Titus,  a vast  ruin,  are  constructed  upon  the 
loAver  ruins  of  the  palace  of  old  Nero  Down  under  the  baths 
of  Titus  the  Triumphant,  are  still  the  chambers  of  Nero’s 
goklen  palace  and  the  corridors  along  Avhich  he  used  to  ])ass 
to  and  fro,  sheltered  from  the  summer  sun  by  cool  arches  and 
splendidly  adorned  roofs.  Some  of  the  paintings  and  figures 
are  Avell  preserved  upon  the  ceilings  of  these  corridors,  though 
placed  there  eighteen  hundred  years  ago.  And  here  you  Avalk 


ROMAN  FORUM. 


169 


over  the  same  mosaic  pavements  on  which  Nero  and  his  court 
trod,  and  upon  which  the  feet  of  Paul  doubtless  stood  when 
tried  before  Nero.  We  have  something  of  Paul’s  wonderful  ad- 
dresses at  Jerusalem,  at  Ctesarea,  and  at  Athen.s.  It  is  remark- 
able that  we  have  nothing  in  the  Bible  of  his  “ answer”  before 
Nero.  Only  from  Paul’s  own  pen  we  learn  that  he  stood  alone 
before  that  heartless  Cicsar.  Was  it  in  these  ruins  that  he 
finished  the  “good  fight”  before  being  led  out  for  execution? 
Was  it  here  he  reached  the  “ beginning  of  the  end  ” of  the 
finished  course?  Was  it  here  he  at  the  last  rose  up  in  splen- 
did triumph,  having  “ kept  the  faith  ? ” There  is  much  of 
historic  interest  at  Rome ; and  yet  to  the  Christian  the  trials, 
toils,  writings,  and  martyrdom  of  the  great  Apostle  Paul  give 
Rome  more  real  sacredness  than  all  besides.  The  results  of 
his  life  here  are  not  in  decayed  colosseums  or  ruined  forums, 
but  in  a gospel  and  Bible  wbich  have  blessed  the  whole  race, 
and  will  live  through  eternity. 

The  old  Roman  Forum  is  twenty  to  thirty  feet  below  the 
present  streets,  l)ut  well  excavated.  Close  by  the  forum  are 
the  ruins  of  the  teni2)les  of  Saturn,  and  Ca.^tnr  and  Pollux, 
which  date  beyond  the  birth  of  Christ  484  and  491  years.  I 
often  gazed  with  wonder  upon  the  old  columns  and  walls, 
clambering  over  the  ruins  of  ages,  which  still  stand  as  dole- 
ful mementos  of  the  past. 

One  day  while  closely  inspecting  the  various  parts  of  the 
Roman  Forum  I was  able  to  determine,  as  I thought,  the  pre- 
cise spot  where  the  dead  body  of  Caesar  lay  when  l\Iark  An- 
tony ])ronounced  his  funeral  oration.  I also  selected  what 
seemed  to  be  the  spot  where  Antony  stood  while  delivering 
his  ingenious  and  marvelous  discourse.  After  having  tried  to 
take  in  that  tragic  scene  and  gathering  a few  mosaic-like  peb- 
bles from  the  spot,  I got  too  near  the  bank  where  the  excava- 
tions had  been  made  and  tumbled  down  about  six  feet,  but 
fortunately  without  injury  to  myself.  Then  I remembered, 
even  from  the  place  where  the  corpse  of  Caesar  once  laid,  that 
there  was  but  one  step  from  the  sublime  to  the  ridiculous — 
and  I had  taken  it. 


170  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


A few  paces  north  from  the  Roman  Forum  is  the  Mamer- 
tine  prison,  in  wliich  tradition  asserts  Paul  and  Peter  were 
imprisoned,  and  where  the  zealous  Peter  by  a miracle  called 
forth  water  from  below  to  baptize  the  prison  converts.  There 
is  shown  in  the  wall  the  face  - print  of  Peter  in  the  rocks 
made  by  his  head,  which,  by  a blow  of  a soldier  was  thrust 
against  the  wall.  I drank  water  from  the  well,  and  saw  the 
j)rint  of  the  face  in  the  wall,  but  as  for  the  traditions  and 
their  origin  I leave  the  reader  to  settle  them  according  to  his 
own  judgment.  No  doubt  Paul  was  for  awhile  confined  here, 
and  in  this  dungeon  Jugurtha,  the  cai)tive  king  of  Numidia, 
perished  more  than  a hundred  years  before  Christ,  having 
been  without  food  for  six  days.  The  lower  cell,  nineteen  feet 
long,  ten  feet  wide,  and  six  and  a half  feet  high,  was  formerly 
reached  only  by  a round  hule  in  the  ceiling,  two  and  a half 
feet  in  diameter.  Now  there  is  a narrow  step-way  provided, 
down  whicli  1 crei)t  slowly  to  stand  in  that  solemn  judson. 
Even  now  the  thought  of  those  dreary  low  walls  around  that 
deep  dungeon  makes  me  shudder. 

Close  beside  the  Roman  Forum,  at  the  foot  of  the  Palatine 
Hill,  yet  stands  well  preserved  the  Triumphal  Arch  of  Titus, 
which  was  erected  A.  D.  70,  to  celebrate  his  victory  in  the 
conquest  of  the  Holy  Land  and  the  Capture  of  Jerusalem.  It 
is  constructed  of  marble  and  travertine,  or  a kind  of  white 
limestone.  Under  the  arch  on  the  one  side  are  reliefs  repre- 
senting the  coronation  of  Titus,  and  on  the  opposite  side  rep- 
resentations of  the  cajdive  Hebrews,  with  the  table  of  shew- 
bread,  gcdden  candlesticks,  and  other  sacred  utensils  of  the 
house  of  God.  There  are  in  Rome  a number  of  these  tri- 
umphal arches,  the  more  noted  of  which  I can  only  mention. 
That  of  Septimius  Severus  is  seventy-five  feet  high  and  eighty- 
two  wide,  erected  in  A.  D.  203  in  honor  of  Septimius  Severus 
and  his  son  Caracalla,  commemorating  the  victories  over  the 
Parthians  and  other  nations.  The  brazen  chariot  and  six 
horses  which  mounted  it,  with  a statue  of  Severus,  have  long 
since  disappeared.  The  Triumj)hal  Arch  of  Constantine  is  the 
best  preserved  of  all  these  commemorative  structures.  It  was 


FORCM  OF  TRAJAX.  171 

erected  early  in  the  fourth  century,  when  Constantine  pro- 
fessed Christianity.  It  is  beautifully  adorned  with  sculpture, 
whicli  is  said  to  have  fornit‘rly  adorned  the  Arch  of  Trajan, 
which  stood  at  tire  entrance  to  the  Forum  of  Trajan. 


ARCH  OF  TITUS. 


The  Forum  of  Trajan,  adjoining  once  the  Forum  of  Augus- 
tus, built  in  the  early  part  of  the  second  century,  and  now 
extensively  excavated,  gives  some  idea  of  the  grandeur  of 
those  days.  It  was  no  doubt  the  most  magnificent  in  Rome, 
being  not  less  than  seven  hundred  feet  in  length.  The  exca- 
vations now  made  expose  a breadth  of  about  one  hundred  feet 
and  a length  ot  nearly  four  hundred  feet.  The  old  founda- 
tions of  columns  with  great  numbers  of  fragments  of  statues 
and  columns  yet  remain.  Near  by,  the  Trajan  Column  a 


172  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


marble  shaft,  with  a statue,  one  liunclred  and  forty-seven  feet 
in  height,  with  a diameter  of  eleven  feet,  surrounded  with  a 
spiral  band  three  feet  wide,  covered  with  carvings  containing 
illustrations  of  Trajan’s  war,  and  containing  no  less  than  two 
thousand  five  hundred  human  figures,  stands  in  solemn  grand- 
eur over  the  tomb  of  the  Emperor  Trajan.  On  the  summit 
of  the  column  once  stood  the  statue  of  Trajan — the  statue 
above,  the  bones  below.  But  it  has  been  supplanted  by  that 
of  St.  Peter,  which  now  adorns  it. 

On  the  Palatine  Hill  the  buildings  of  Caligula  are  widely 
excavated,  and  exhibit  vast  chambers  where  wealth  and  splen- 
dor adorned  the  dwellings  of  the  brutal  emperor.  The  build- 
ings of  Tiberius,  west  of  those  of  Caligula,  embrace  what  is 
believed  to  have  been  the  private  house  of  Tiberius  Claudius 
Nero,  the  father  of  Tiberius,  in  which  once  lived  and  died 
Livia  Drusilla,  his  mother,  after  the  death  of  Augustus,  for 
whose  sake  she  divorced  her  first  husband.  This  building  is 
very  interesting,  and  its  paintings  and  frescoing  upon  the 
walls  are  well  preserved.  Higher  up  on  the  Palatine  is  the 
excavated  Palace  of  tlie  Emperors,  built  by  Vespasian,  the 
most  extensive  ruin  seen  on  the  hill.  The  vast  royal  room, 
the  dining-room,  the  great  reception-room,  the  throne-room, 
one  hundred  and  seventeen  feet  by  one  hundred  and  fifty- 
seven  feet,  Avith  the  aquarium  and  other  rooms,  the  uses  of 
Avhich  are  not  knoAvn,  speak  of  a grandeur  amazing.  Broken 
statuary  and  the  rooms  of  the  gods  tell  a tale  of  heathen 
culture  which  Avell  justifies  the  claims  of  history  in  asserting 
the  splendor  of  the  Slternal  City.  WTiat  splendor  and  Avhat 
beastliness  were  once  combined  in  those  ])alaces  of  gorgeous 
structure  adorned  AA'ith  the  figures  of  beastly  gods. 

The  ruins  of  the  baths  of  Diocletian  and  those  of  Caracalla 
shoAV  a S])lendor  and  vastness  beyond  parallel.  They  date 
back  to  the  early  part  of  the  fourth  century.  Tremendous 
walls,  acres  of  mosaic  floor,  immense  chambers,  the  uses  of 
which  at  this  day  remain  unknown,  almost  bewilder  one. 
The  circumference  of  the  baths  of  Diocletian  is  given  at  six 
thousand  feet ; and  while  those  of  Caracalla  could  accommo- 


COLOSSEUM. 


173 


date  one  thousand  and  six  hundred  bathers  at  one  time,  those 
of  Diocletian  had  daily  bathers  of  not  less  than  three  tliousand. 

The  Palazzo  Rcglo,  royal  j>alace,  seldom  shown  to  the  i)ublic, 
is  well  worthy  a visit.  It  was  built  about  three  hundred  years 
ago,  and  was  for  a long  time  occupied  by  the  ])opes.  Here 
their  conclaves  wei’e  held,  and  the  elections  of  popes  occurred 
in  the  large  chamber.  Since  1S70  it  has  been  pos.sessed  by  the 
Italian  governnumt,  and  is  the  residence  of  the  king  of  Italy. 
The  drawing  and  reception  rooms  have  recently  been  fitted 
up  at  great  cost,  and  their  adornnumt  with  pictures  and 
tapestry  is  ri(di  and  gairdy.  Visiting  this  royal  palace  one 
daj'  with  a company,  we  were  allowed  to  saunter  through  the 
royal  apartments  at  great  leisure.  I do  not  at  all  envy  the 
young  King  Humbert  and  his  queen  these  royal  chambers; 
but  if  I had  to  live  in  Italy  these  iXH)ms  appear  about  as 
comfortable  and  tast}'  as  any  I know  of,  and  would  answer 
quite  well. 

The  most  impressive  structure  of  Rome  — or  of  the  world  — 
is  the  Colosseum,  or  amphitheater,  completed  by  Titus  in  the 
vear  A.  D.  <S0,  the  opening  of  whicdi  was  celebrated  by  gladia- 
torial combats,  lasting  one  hundred  days,  in  which  no  less 
than  five  thousand  wild  beasts  were  slain.  The  Colosseum  is 
built  of  s(piare  blocks  of  stone  on  the  outside  and  brick  on 
the  inner  parts.  Its  structure  is  that  of  an  ellipse,  its  greatest 
diameter  being  six  hundred  and  fifteen  feet  and  the  shorter 
five  hundred  and  ten  feet,  and  the  outer  wall  one  hundred 
and  fifty-six  feet  high.  These  are  the  measurements  as  given 
by  Baedeker.  It  covers  about  five  acix's  of  ground,  and  it  is 
almost  one  third  of  a mile  around  it.  The  arena  in  the  center 
is  two  hundred  and  seventy-nine  by  one  hundred  and  sev- 
enty-four feet.  In  this  the  conflicts  of  beasts  and  afterward 
the  eating  of  the  martyrs  by  wild  beasts  occurred.  Here 
were  the  groans  of  the  dying  gladiators.  From  the  arena  the 
tiers  of  seats,  four  in  number,  rise  to  the  top_of  the  outside 
wall.  These  have  aisles  in  front,  and  passages  of  ingress  and 
egress.  It  furnished  seats  for  no  less  than  eighty-seven  thou- 
sand spectators,  who  might  look  down  upon  the  bull-fights. 


174 


FRAXCE,  ITATA\  GREECE,  AXD  TURKEY. 


and  upon  wild  beasts  devouring  their  condemned  victims, 
while  fifteen  thousand  more  might  stand  and  gaze  upon  the 
scene.  About  one  third  of  the  outer  wall  is  standing,  and 
well  preserved.  Beneath  the  arena  are  cells  and  passages  and 
caverns  for  the  wild  l)easts,  and  close  to  the  subterranean  pas- 
sage, out  to  the  place  where  the  beasts  were  kept  in  hunger 
awaiting  the  morrow,  are  the  prisons  in  which  condemned 
Christians  were  confined,  and  where  all  the  night  long  they 
could  hear  the  roaring  of  the  hungry  lions  who  should  devour 
them  when  the  morrow  came.  How  angels  must  have  stood 
tremblingly  on  their  starry  thrones  in  the  arena  above,  waiting 


to  leap  and  fly  to  the  rescue.  Who  that  stands  upon  the  height 
of  this  Colosseum  and  looks  down  upon  the  arena  on  which 
once  were  enacted  such  scenes  as  makes  the  heart  sick  with 
their  history  hut  must  tremble  witli  emotion.  Still,  through 
these  centuries  succeeding  centuries  those  gn*at  mountain-like 
walls  have  stood  with  such  imposing  power  that  a thousand 
vears  ago  visitors  exclaimed : 

“ Wliile  stands  the  Colosseum,  Rome  shall  stand ; 

When  falls  the  Colosseum,  Rome  shall  fall; 

And  when  Rome  falls,  with  it  shall  fall  the  world.” 


CHAPTER  V. 


Walls  of  Rome — Priests — Monks  — Orders  — St.  Pietro  in  Vincoli  — Stat- 
ue of  Moses,  by  Michael  Angelo  — Ar^  Incident  — Pantheon — Tomb 
of  Raphael  — Roman  Art  — Sistine  Chapel  — Frescoes  of  Michael  An- 
gelo— Vatican  — Transtignration — Church  of  St.  Peter — Pilate’s  Stairs 
— Chapel  of  St.  I’aul  — Tomb  of  Paul  — Catacombs  — Persecuted  Chris- 
tians— Pagan  Tomb — Lessons  from  the  Catacombs. 


IIP]  tvulls  wliicli  surround  niodoru  Rome  are  fourteen 
miles  long,  Iniilt  of  brick,  and  on  the  outside  over 
fifty  feet  in  higlit.  They  date  back  to  the  early  part 
'of  the  third  eeutury.  Twelve  gates  open  to  the  Eternal 
Citv,  Iving  on  both  sides  of  tlie  Tiber.  Almost  one  fourth 
of  the  population  sulisist  from  public  alms.  Tliere  are 
not  less  than  seven  thousand  religious  orders,  and  almost  lialf 
a hundred  cardinals,  and  more  bishops,  and  perhaps  three 
thousand  monks  who  are  seen  sauntering  everywliere.  There 
are  about  three  hundred  cluirches  and  cathedrals.  I can  take 
the  reader  to  only  a few  of  these. 

In  the  St.  Pietro  in  Vinroli,  the  first  building  of  which  was 
founded  in  the  fifth  century,  is  the  famous  work  of  Michael 
Angelo,  the  statue  of  Closes.  It  is  in  some  respects  the  most 
illustrious  piece  of  statuary  in  existence.  By  a mistransla- 
tion, as  we  are  told,  of  Exodus  xxxiv.  35,  Moses  is  rejiresented 
with  two  horns  upon  the  top  of  the  forehead.  The- sitting 
statue  is  a colossal  figure  indeed,  and  its  symmetry  of  form 
and  masterly  execution  of  art  present  expressions  of  power 
and  decision  such  as  no  other  work  of  art  exhibits.  As 
you  look  into  the  great  face  with  its  piercing  eyes,  and  beard 
down  to  the  waist,  with  cheeks  and  brow  showing  the  very 
veins  of  life,  and  on  the  bodv  and  arms  showing  muscles 

175 


176  FRANCE,  rrAT.Y,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


ready  to  move,  and  mouth  ready  to  open,  one  feels  like  saying 
ndtli  the  master  as  he  completed  it,  “ Speak,  Moses,  speak.” 
The  story  is  told  that  Micliael  Angelo  was  so  delighted  with 
the  figure  of  Moses  when  he  had  completed  it  that  he  asked, 
“Is  there  anything  Avanting  Avith  Moses?”  To  Avhich  he 
again  replied,  “ There  is  nothing  Avanting,”  and  smiting  the 
statue  on  the  right  knee  he  exclaimed,  “ Speak,  Moses, 
s])eak!”  Avhereupon  there  is  a crack  shown  in  the  knee. 
M'hether  the  story  produced  the  crack  or  the  crack  produced 
the  story,  I can  not  relate. 

The  Pantheon,  in  Avhich  Avere  once  enshrined  images  of  the 
gods,  Mars,  Venus,  and  doubtless  many  others,  being  dedicated 
to  all  gods,  is  the  only  perfect  remaining  specimen  of  real  an- 
cient architecture  in 
Rome.  Its  huge  and 
mas.sive  Avails,  and 
columns,  and  dome, 
produce  a profound 
impression  on  the 
beholder.  The  Avails, 
built  to  defy  time, 
are  t av  e u t y feet 
thick,  and  its  portico, 
OA’er  one  hundred 
feet  Avide  and  fortj'- 
tAvo  feet  deep,  is 
sustained  by  sixteen 
Corinthian  columns 
of  granite  four  feet  four  inches  in  diameter,  and  thirty-nine 
feet  high.  These,  Avith  the  great  dome  one  hundred  and 
forty  feet  high  and  the  same  in  circumference  at  its  base,  pre- 
sent a massivene.ss  AA'hich  associated  AA'ith  its  antiquitA'  aAA'es 
one  to  reverence  before  it.  Though  knoAvn  as  the  Pantheon 
almost  from  the  time  of  Christ,  and  built  by  Agrippa  tAventy- 
seA'en  A’eai’S  before  the  birth  of  Christ,  for  the  last  tAA'elve 
hundred  years  it  has  been  a Christian  church,  having  been 
so  consecrated  by  Pope  Boniface  IV.,av1io  removed  the  heathen 


THE  PANTHEON. 


FRESCOES  OF  MICHAEL  ANGELO. 


Ill 


images  and  consecrated  it  to  the  ^’’il•gin.  Of  course  it  has  often 
been  repaired  and  changed,  but  in  the  old  walls  are  the  niches 
where  once  stood  the  gods  of  Rome  in  the  days  of  its  utter 
idolatry.  It  contains  the  tond)  of  King  Victor  Emmanuel,  the 
first  king  of  Italy;  and  the  ashes  of  Raphael,  who  died  April 
6th,  1520. 

In  the  churches  and  museums  of  Rome  are  garnered  the  art- 
treasures  of  the  world.  The  paintings,  less  numerous  than  at 
Florence,  are  not  less  elaborate  or  imijosing,  while  the  statuary 
at  Rome  is  the  product  of  century  following  century.  In  the 
Vatican  ^luseum  alone  there  is  enough  to  cause  one  to  wonder 
the  remainder  of  his  life,  after  seeing  it.  The  old  Sistine 
Cha})cl,  where  all  the  i)opes  hav^  been  consecrated,  is  won- 
drously  adorned  by  the  marvelous  designs  of  Michael  Ang(do. 
Its  ceiling  paintings  executed  by  him  between  1508  and  1512 
may  be  taken  as  the  culminating  and  crowning  effort  of  that 
master.  Whoever  looks  once  upon  that  wonderful  design  long 
enough  to  aeejuire  some  fair  conception  of  its  scope  will 
ever  afterward  have  above  him  the  Almighty  God  divid- 
ing the  light  from  the  darkness,  and  again  his  outstretched 
hands  creating  the  two  great  lights.  Indeed  it  is  hardly 
possible  to  ever  lo.se  the  impression  of  these  living  j)ict- 
ures.  The  higher  j>art  of  the  ceiling  is  filled  with  represen- 
tations of  the  creation  of  the  world,  the  creation  of  Adam  and 
Eve,  the  temptation  and  fall  of  man,  the  .sacrifice  of  Cain  and 
Abel,  the  destruction  of  the  world  by  the  flood,  and  drunken 
Noah  mocked  by  Ilam  and  pitied  by  Shem  and  Japheth.  In 
the  lower  part  of  the  vaulting  are  the  bewildering  portraits  of 
the  prophets  and  sybils — -Jeremiah,  Ezekiel  with  a scroll  jiartly 
opened,  Joel  reading  a scroll,  Daniel,  and  Isaiah.  Some  are 
reading  from  a roll  and  some  are  in  iwofound  meditation,  while 
Jonah  sits  under  the  gourd-vine.  In  the  Vatican,  chamber 
after  chamber  and  gallery  after  gallery  contain  the  choicest 
productions  of  the  painter’s  art,  and  corridors  and  halls  treas- 
ure thousands  of  marble  sculptures  and  busts  of  popes  and 
emperors.  The  busts  of  Nero  and  Titus  show  a brutality 
equaled  only  by  the  pictures  of  the  face  of  Henry  VIII.  of 
12 


178  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


England,  as  seen  in  London.  Before  the  “ Transfiguration '* 
by  Raphael,  his  last  great  work,  one  wishes  to  spend  days. 
Every  returning  visit  would  add  some  new  delight,  and  fur- 
nish a new  beauty  to  be  admired  and  a new  virtue  to  be 
loved.  Nor  would  this  be  less  true  of  “The  dead  Christ  and 
Mary  Magdalene.” 

Take  all  the  colossal  beauty  and  strength  and  masterly  pro- 
portions of  the  cathedrals  of  Europe  and  combine  them  into 
one,  and  you  have  a conception  of  St,  Peters  Church,  in 
the  center  mf  which  Romish  tradition  asserts  St.  Peter  is 
buried,  and  around  which  the  Romish  Church  has  collected 
its  sublimest  construction  of  architecture  and  entombed  its 
venerated  popes  for  ages.  *Its  history  dates  back  to  the  time 
of  Constantine.  Here  Leo  III.  j:)ut  the  imperial  crown  upon 
the  head  of  Charlemagne  amid  Christmas- festivities  ten  hun- 
dred and  eighty-three  years  ago;  and  here  emperors  and  poi>es 
have  often  come  in  splendor  to  their  coronation.  In  the 
sixteenth  century  Michael  Angelo  gave  to  the  church  its  vast 
proportions  of  design,  to  which,  since  his  death,  several  addi- 
tions have  been  made.  Its  cost  of  building  was  about  fifty 
million  dollars,  and  its  present  annual  expense  is  nearly  forty 
thousand  dollars.  Its  external  is  not  inviting,  and  the  inte- 
rior would  be  far  less  imjiressive  than  other  cathedrals  were  it 
not  for  the  immensity  of  its  design.  Its  length  is  six  hun- 
dred and  thirty-nine  feet  besides  the  portico,  which,  if  in- 
cluded, makes  it  six  hundred  and  ninety -six  feet.  The 
transept  measures  over  four  hundred  and  fifty  feet.  The 
diameter  of  the  dome  is  one  hundred  and  thirty-eight  feet, 
and  its  height  from  the  Irasement  to  the  summit  of  the  cross 
is  four  hundred  and  thirty-six  feet.  Besides  the  high  altar 
the  church  contains  twenty-nine  altars,  some  of  which  are 
entirely  unused  since  the  death  of  the  ])opes  t(j  whom  thej’ 
belonged.  Over  one  hundred  poises  are  buried  here, — one 
hundred  and  thirty-two  in  all;  and  three  hundred  and  ninety- 
six  statues  adorn  its  vast  facade,  as  shown  in  the  cut  on 
page  one  hundred  and  seventy -nine.  The  elaborate  altars, 
splendid  columns,  and  overawing  statuary  make  up  an  impos- 


ciirncii  OF  ST.  peter. 


179 


ing  magnificence  n-liicli  is  only  eijualcd  liy  tlie  hollow  pretense 
of  infalli])ility  of  the  delndcil  pope  who  is  imprisoned  in  his 
dei)artments  up  there  in  the  Vatican.  A litth*  to  the  right 
and  fronting  the  gre;ft  altar  as  you  approach  it  from  the  main 
eiitruiice  is  a bronze  statue  of  Peter,  whose  big  toe  is  worn 


smooth  and  bright  In*  the  kissing  of  silly  women  whose  delu- 
sion fancies  some  i)rofit  can  come  of  kissing  that  iron  toe,  as 
Luther  once  thought  he  might  be  justified  by  climbing  up 
the  Scala  Santa — -twentj'-eight  marble  steps, — in  another 


180  FRAXCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY 


place  in  Rome.  Tliu.se  stairs  are  now  covered  with  wood,  and 
may  only  be  ascended  on  the  knees,  they  being  considered 
thus  sacred,  having  been  brought  from  the  palace  of  Pilate, 
in  -Jerusalem,  in  the  fourth  century,  by  Helena.  It  is  believed 
that  Christ  once  ascended  them,  and  hence  their  sacredness. 
Rut  the  world  is  learning  as  did  Luther,  that  “the  just  shall 
live  by  faith.’’  These  vast  structure.s,  including  the  Vatican 
with  its  pope  and  all  its  departments,  are  sustained  by  tbe 
money  of  the  poor  in  all  lands.  While  a few  priests  in  isola- 
tion are  chanting  mass  in  the  cathedrals,  the  crowds  and 
throngs  of  Italy  are  unwashed  and  unsaved.  Yet  the  Ro- 
man world  pours  in  its  offerings  of  “ pence  ” to  su2)port  these 
priests  and  monks,  who  are  everywhere  to  lie  seen  walk- 
ing or  riding  through  the  streets  of  Rome.  But  the  jiower  of 
super-stition  is  waning,  and  mu.st  decay  with  tlie  better  knowl- 
edge of  Christ  Jesus.  At  Rome  one  meets  many  who  have 
read  more  widely  and  who  have  come  in  contact  with  the 
wider  world  who  laugh  at  the  formal  2)ret('nsions,  supersti- 
tions, and  legends  which  jiermeate  the  Romish  Church. 

On  the  way  to  the  Catacombs  you  i>ass  by  the  St.  Paolo  Fuori 
le  Mara,  or  chajiel  of  St.  Paul,  founded  A.  D.  388 — a vast  struct- 
ure, and  wondrously  adorned  with  portraits  and  statues  of 
Paul  and  St.  Peter.  Under  the  great  altar  in  the  confessional 
is  the  .sarcoi)hagus  of  St.  Paul,  who  is  said  to  have  Ijeen  buried 
here  by  a wealthy  and  pious  woman  named  Lucina,  who 
was  the  owner  of  the  j)ro23erty.  One  grows  a little  incredulous 
here,  although  no  doubt  Paul  was  executed  a little  farther 
out  of  the  city,  on  the  A^ijdan  Way,  over  which  he  entered 
the  city  from  Puteoli.  That  his  body  went  to  rest  somewhere 
near  here  we  can  well  conjecture;  and  it  is  a relief  to  think 
that  possibly  some  jjious  one  ma}'  have  thus  cared  for  the 
hero’s  dead  body  by  decently  burying  it. 

The  early  Christians  called  their  Inirial  i^laces  Ccemeteria — a 
place  to  sleep;  and  in  the  Catacombs  of  Rome,  outside  the 
Aurelian  walls,  we  find  the  same  under-ground  walks  and 
tombs  where  saints  of  early  Christian  times  found  rest  from 
the  toils  of  life.  These  subterranean  2>assages,  with  vaults  or 


CA  TACO  MBS. 


181 


niches  in  the  soft  tufu-rock,  were  the  receptacles  of  the  dead  of 
the  earh'  Christians  down  to  the  beginning  of  the  fourtli  cen- 
tury. They  are  vast  streets  or  passages  far  beneath  the 
ground,  with  here  and  there  a chapel,  and  an  altar,  where 
thousands  were  wra2>ped  in  cloths  and  laid  away  to  sleep, 
with  the  lamp  beside  them  or  at  their  head,  in  hope  of  the 
final  resurrection.  The  passages  are  only  two  or  three  feet 
wide,  and  the  niches  or  shelves  on  either  side,  one  above  the 
other,  were  closed  and  sealed,  being  marked  by  marble  slabs 
bearing  inscriptions,  sometimes  in  Greek,  but  often  in  Latin. 
The  paintings  and  reliefs,  a few  of  which  yet  remain,  usually 
present  an  illustration  of  some  Christian  idea  respecting  hope 
for  the  dead.  These  passages  lie  one  above  another,  and  are 
reached  by  steps  descending.  There  are  from  three  to  five  sto- 
ries excavated  in  places,  the  lower  being  forty  feet  below  the 
surface  of  the  earth.  If  the.se  vaults  and  dark  aisles  of  the 
dead,  crossing  at  various  angles,  and  making  a distance  of 
many  miles  in  all,  could  talk  to  us,  what  a story  of  agony 
and  sorrow  and  fear  and  hope  and  tears  they  would  tell. 
The  perseciued  followers  of  Christ  often  sought  shelter  and 
protection  here,  while  fleeing  the  fiendish  rage  of  hellish 
persecutors.  In  these  caverns  they  found  rest  when  over- 
taken by  cruel  martyrdom.  As  I wandered  through  one 
vast  passage  after  another,  discovering  here  and  there  a 
chamber  once  used  as  a place  of  shelter  and  Avor.ship,  as  the 
early  ('hristians,  surrounded  b\"  their  dead,  called  on  God  for 
deliverance,  there  came  rushing  to  my  thoughts  the  utter- 
ances of  the  sacred  writer  which  though  spoken  respecting 
unknown  worthies  may  have  been  a strength  and  stay  to  the 
early  Christians  in  these  places  of  refuge, — “ And  others  had 
trial  of  cruel  mockings  and  scourgings,  yea,  moreover  of  bonds 
and  imprisonment : they  were  stoned,  they  were  sawn  asun- 
der, were  tempted,  -NVere  slain  with  the  sword  : they  Avandered 
about  in  sheep-skins  and  goat-skins ; being  destitute,  afflicted, 
tormented ; of  Avhom  the  Avorld  was  not  worthy : they  Avan- 
dered  in  deserts,  and  in  mountains,  and  in  dens  and  caves  of 
the  earth.  And  these  all,  having  obtained  a good  • report 


182  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


through  faith.”  (Heb.  xi.  37-39.)  What  awful  memories  are 
in  these  old  Catacoml)S ! Only  a few  of  the  bones  are  left  to 
be  seen  so  far  as  excavations  have  discovered.  Long  centu- 
ries ago  conquerors  and  invaders  of  Rome  broke  open  these 
places  once  visited  with  sacred  honors  to  the  dead,  and  bore 
away  the  treasures  of  bones.  The  tablets  largely  adorn  the 
walls  of  Catholic  buildings  in  the  city.  By  a taper- light  I 
passed  through  these  regions  of  the  dead  for  an  hour  or  more, 
and  was  glad  to  get  out  into  the  fresh,  pure  air.  Returning  to 
the  city  I passed  a few  moments  descending  a pagan  tomb,  dis- 
covered about  fifteen  years  ago.  It  is  a great  square  chamber 
entirely  under  the  earth.  On  each  side  of  the  square  are  nine  or 
ten  rows  of  niches  in  the  wall,  with  urns  covered  with  lids  and 
filled  with  the  ashes  of  the  departed.  Near  by  was  a heathen 


Cremation  of  the  dead  is  heathenish  j burial  in  the  earth  is 
Christian.  This  is  one  of  the  lessons  of  the  Catacombs  and 
pagan  tombs.  The  one  anticipates  a resurrection ; the  other 
accepts  annihilation.  Into  the  Catacombs,  Cliristian  art  early 
found  its  way ; and  many  are  the  Christian  symbols  which 
show  us  what  ideas  in  those  early  Christian  times  were  cher- 
ished by  the  dying,  and  what  precious  gospel  hope  presented 
its  lamp  of  light  by  the  tombs  of  departed  saints. 


GRAVES  IN  THE  CATACOMBS. 


temj)le,  ivith  an  al- 
tar, etc.,  for  the 
burning  of  the 
dead.  This  tomb, 
which  presents  a 
good  opportunity 
to  study  the  con- 
trast with  the  pecH 
pie  who  construc- 
ted the  Catacombs, 
dates  from  the  sec- 
ond or  third  cen- 
tury before  the 
birth  of  Christ. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Paul  m Rome — A Roman  Citizen — Epistie  to  the  Romans — At  Puteoli  — 

Paul’s  Hired  House  — Dwellings  of  Jews— The  Appian  Way  — Foot- 
prints of  Christ  — Panl’s  First  Viewof  Rome  — His  Epistles  — Success 
of  His  Ministry — Two  Incidents  — Paul’s  Associates  at  Rome  — Ref- 
erence to  His  Imprisonment  — Lessons  from  our  Sorrows. 

all  the  historic  interest,  architectural  wonder 
( and  heauty,  anticiuity  and  eloquence  of  art  in  Rome, 
I found  myself  more  impressed  with  the  incidents  in 
the  life  of  the  great  Apostle  Paul,  than  with  all  beside. 
Paul  was  at  Rome  in  the  days  of  its  splendor  and  power. 

1 For  ages  its  history  was  well-nigh  the  history  of  the 
world.  Thus  its  historic  connections  cause  a Christian  to  en- 
ter within  its  walls  with  peculiar  feelings.  Eighteen  hundred 
years  ngo  the  power  concentrated  in  this  city  was  such  that 
the  great  Ai)ostle  Paul  felt  the  influence  of  a freedom  it  gained 
him  as  a Roman  citizen,  even  in  Palestine.  Aside  from  his 
divine  commission  and  his  love  for  humanity,  nothing  gave 
him  more  boldness  to  preach  the  gospel  everywhere  than  the 
protection  he  could  justly  claim  under  the  freedom  of  that 
citizenship,  though  the  center  of  his  missionary  operations 
might  be  across  the  sea  from  Rome.  When  Paul  was  mobbed 
in  .Jerusalem,  and  was  allowed  by  the  captain  of  the  band  to 
plead  his  own  cause  from  the  stairs,  the  chief  captain,  being 
about  to  scourge  Paul,  was  made  to  hesitate  and  tremble  as 
the  prisoner,  bound  in  thongs,  appealed  to  his  rights  as  a 
Roman  citizen,  saying,  “Is  it  lawful  for  you  to  scourge  a man 
that  is  a Roman  and  uncondemned  ? ’ “And  the  chief  captain 
also  was  afraid  after  he  knew  that  he  was  a Roman,  and  be- 
cause he  had  bound  him.”  If  Paul  at  any  previous  time  had 

183 


IS4  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


found  freedom  and  j^helter  for  the  great  Avork  he  had  accom- 
plished in  the  gospel  under  the  X)Ower  of  the  Roman  govern- 
ment, he  Avas  soon  to  come  in  such  contact  Avith  it  as  should 
assure  him  that  his  only  sure  refuge  Avas  in  God.  Yet,  tAAm 
nights  after  his  sj)eech  on  the  stairs,  the  angel  of  the  Lord 
stood  by  him  and  said,  “Be  of  good  cheer,  PuaiI  : for  as  thou 
hast  testitied  of  me  in  Jerusalem,  so  must  thou  hear  Avitness 
also  at  Rome.”  Paul  had  long  desired  to  visit  this  center  of 
lAOAver,  for  in  his  epistle  sent  to  Rome  by  Phu*be  he  sIioavs  his 
love  for  the  brethren,  and  tells  them  j)lainly  of  his  longings 
Avhen  he  Avrites,  “lYr  God  is  my  Avitness,  Avhom  I serve  Avith 
my  s])irit  in  the  gos^iel  of  his  8on,  that  Avithout  ceasing  I 
make  mention  of  you  ahvays  in  my  x>rayers;  making  n‘(xue.st, 
if  by  any  means  now  at  length  I might  liaA’e  a i)ros{Aerous 
journey  by  the  Avill  of  God  to  come  unto  you.  For  I long  to 
see  you,  that  I may  imjiart  unto  you  some  spiritual  gift,  to 
the  end  ye  may  be  established;  that  is,  that  I may  be  com- 
forted together  Avith  you  by  the  mutual  faith  both  of  you  and 
me.  XoAV  I Avould  not  have  you  ignorant,  brethren,  that  oft- 
entimes I ])ur])0.sed  to  come  unto  you,  (Imt  Avas  let  hitlierto,) 
that  I might  have  some  fruit  among  you  also,  even  as  among 
other  gentiles.”  (Romans  i.  9-13.) 

The  testimony  of  the  angel  standing  by  him  in  the  night 
j)rcxAared  him  for  the  issue  Avhich  brought  him  to  Rome,  after 
tAvo  years  of  imx)risonnient  at  (’u'.sarea,  in  Avhich  he  often 
X)reached  to  Felix.  Festus  coming  to  the  throne  of  Felix,  and 
sitting  in  judgment  ui)on  the  cause  of  Paul,  j)rox)osed  to  send 
him  to  Jerusalem  for  a trial  l)cfore  the  .Icavs.  There  is  no 
grander  sjAecimen  of  true  manliness  and  her(Aism,  or  ])ro- 
foiAuder  statement  of  right,  than  this  long-im})risoned  embas- 
sador of  Christ  exhibited  Avhen  he  declared  to  Festus,  “I  stand 
at  Cicsar’s  judgment-seat,  Avhere  I ought  to  be  judged:  to  the 
JeAVS  have  1 done  no  Avrong,  as  thou  very  avcJI  knoAvest.  For 
if  I be  an  offender,  or  have  committed  anything  Avorthy  of 
death,  I refuse  not  to  die  : but  if  there  be  none  of  these  things 
whereof  these  accuse  me,  no  man  may  deliver  me  unto  them. 

I a|jpeal  unto  Caesar.”  And  from  this  event  and  those  folloAV- 


rAW8  HIRED  HOUSE. 


18.5 


ing,  Rome  as  the  prison-home  of  Paul  became  a city  of  sur- 
passing interest  to  the  Christian  church. 

Tlie  epistle  of  Paul  written  to  the  church  here  is  the  most 
important  of  all  his  writings,  though  penned  before  he  had 
himself  ])reached  the  gospel  at  Rome.  When  in  the  provi- 
dence of  God  he  came  to  Rome  he  found  a welcome.  I went 
out  on  the  road  a long  distance  toward  Puteoli,  and  read  with 
joy  the  record  of  Acts  xxviii.  1.3—15,  “ And  we  came  the  next 
day  to  Puteoli:  where  Ave  found  brethren,  and  were  desired 
to  tarry  with  them  seven  days:  and  so  Avinit  toward  Rome. 
And  from  thence,  when  the  brethren  heard  of  us,  they  came 
to  meet  us  as  far  as  Ap])ii  Forum,  and  the  Three  Taverns  : 
whom  when  Paul  saw,  he  thanked  God  and  took  courage.” 

For  two  years  or  more  Rome  was  the  scene  of  the  busiest 
toils  of  the  great  apostle.  Here  he  was  permitted  to  “ dwell 
by  himself  Avith  a soldier  that  kept  him.”  On  the  Via  Lata 
a small  church  called  Saint  Maria  marks  the  site  tradition 
points  out  as  the  place  A\diere  “Paul  dwelt  two  Avhole  years 
in  his  oAAui  hired  house,  and  received  all  that  came  in  unto 
him,  preaching  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  teaching  those  things 
AA’hich  concern  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  AA'ith  all  conlidence, 
no  man  forbidding  him.”  One  day  I Avent  through  that 
ancient  place.  The  church  on  this  spot  dates  back  to  the 
Seventeenth  century.  From  the  A'estibule  of  the  church  you 
descend  about  fifteen  steps  into  the  reputed  hired  house  of 
Paul.  Its  location  in  the  city  is  favorable  to  the  truth  of 
the  tradition ; and  its  distance  beloAV  the  surfac;e  of  the  pres- 
ent streets  again  is  favorable.  Here  Ave  Avere  shoAvn  four 
rooms;  and  the  appearance  of  the  wall  makes  it  reasonable 
that  it  Avas  standing  at  the  time  of  the  apostle.  The  tradition 
is  not  proof  positive.  That  Paul  AA'as  here  in  this  place  or 
some  other,  aa'c  knoAV.  We  have  no  other  })lacc  ]>ointed  out. 
There  are  no  reasons  AAdiy  this  may  not  be  the  i)lace.  Tradi- 
tion asserts  it  to  be  such  place,  therefore  it  is  probabl}'  the 
identical  hired  house.  And  since  other  buildings  of  times 
anterior  to  those  of  Paul  exist,  Ave  may  accept  this  as  his  until 
it  shall  be  shoAvn  othenvisc.  The  rooms  are  not  large,  and  are 


186  FRASCE,  FFAT.Y,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


ancient  in  every  apj:)earance.  As  I stood  surrounded  by  those 
old  walls  in  the  small  chambers,  I could  hut  ask  these  ques- 
tions: “Is  it  possible  that  here  within  tliese  walls  the  great 

apostle  with  a soldier  chained  to  him  kept  his  throbbing  heart, 
Avhich  longed  to  visit  the  churches  that  he  might  impart  to 
them  some  spiritual  gift,, somewhat  at  peace  by  writing  those 
inimitable  epistles  which  have  come  down  tons?  Can  it  be 
that  from  these  doors  and  chambers  he  sent  away  Timothy 
and  Onesimus,  and  others  whose  comforting  ministrations  he 
so  much  needed  here?  Did  these  old  walls  glow  like  ruby 
and  blaze  like  pillars  of  fire  as  the  Spirit  of  Cod  filled  the 
dwelling?  Was  it  out  from  these  doors  the  great  apostle — the 
one  hero  since  the  days  of  Christ — was  led  to  his  ‘first  answer’ 
Avhen  no  man  stood  by  him,  Init  all  men  forsook  him  and  left 
him  to  go  unattended  to  the  palace  of  Nero,  there  to  stand  all 
alone?”  Over  the  door  leading  to  these  chambers  is  the  super- 
scription, “ Caia  autem  venissemm  Romam,  pcrmUmm  est  Paulo 
manere  sihimet  nmi  cuMndiente  f<e  milife.  A.  A.,  caj).  xxviii.”* 
Of  course  this  is  only  modern  in  its  date.  Paul  went  about 
the  streets  of  Rome  chained  to  a Roman  soldier,  glad  that  one 
hand  was  free,  and  that  he  could  liberate  men  from  the  bonds 
of  sin  by  the  power  of  the  gospel.  In  these  chambers  he 
Avrote  his  first  epistle  from  Rome  to  the  Ephesians.  His  ref- 
erence to  his  state  is  Amry  delicate  indeed  : “ But  that  ye  also 

may  knoAV  of  my  affairs  and  how  I do,  Tychicus,  a beloved 
brother  and  faithful  minister  in  the  Lord,  shall  make  knoAvn 
to  you  all  things.” 

I Avent  doAvn  through  the  Ghetto  close  to  the  Tiber,  Avhere  in 
a few  narrow,  crowded  streets  and  lanes  Avith  lofty  buildings, 
there  live  nearly  five  thousand  JeAvs.  There  are  SAvarms  of 
diny  children,  Avomen  and  men,  all  busy,  and  all  dirty.  Sbo])s 
are  partly  in  tlie  streets — indeed  largely  in  the  streets.  Their 
sitting-rooms  are  on  the  streets — anvAvhere.  But  tlie  HebreAvs 
once  saAv  a better  day  in  Rome  than  noAv,  as  Rome  has  seen 
better  days.  The  city  in  Paul’s  time  Avas  occupied  by  many 

But  when  we  came  to  Rome,  Paul  was  permitted  to  dwell  by  himself  witli  tlie 
soldier  that  guarded  him.  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  chapter  xxviii,  16. 


THE  APPIAX  WAY. 


187 


Hebrews.  As  I looked  into  the  faces  of  these  children  of  Ja- 
cob the  gathering  of  tlieir  elders  together  by  the  apostle  came 
before  me.  The  elders  of  the  Jews  were  the  first  to  receive  the 
illustrious  prisoner's  attention  in  Rome.  To  them  he  ad- 
dres.sed  the  memorable  words,  “ Men  and  brethren,  though  I 
have  committed  nothing  against  the  people  or  the  customs  of 
our  fathers,  j’ct  was  I delivered  i)risoner  from  Jerusalem  into 
the  hands  of  the  Romans : who,  when  they  had  examined  me, 
would  have  let  me  go,  because  there  was  no  cause  of  death  in 
me.  But  when  the  Jews  spake  against  it,  I was  constrained  to 
appeal  unto  Cu'sar ; not  th.it  I had  aught  to  accuse  my  nation 
of.  For  this  cause  therefore  have  I called  for  you,  to  see  you, 
and  to  speak  with  you  : because  that  for  the  hope  of  Israel  I 
am  bound  with  this  chain.” 

They  desired  to  hear  from  him  what  he  thought,  for  they 
had  heard  the  Chri.stian  cause  “ spoken  against,"’  but  “some 
believed  the  things  which  were  spoken,  and  some  believed 
not,”  so  that  “ they  agreed  not  among  themselves;”  but  here 
Paul  continued  to  receive  “all  that  came  to  him.” 

I made  a jf)urney  far  out  the  Appian  MTiy  toward  Appii 
! 'orum  and  the  Three  Taverns.  It  is  a narrow,  splendidly 
])aved  road  which  was  constructed  over  three  hundred  years 
before  the  birth  of  Christ,  and  here  and  there  is  cdosely  hedged 
in  by  close  dingy  walls.  Still  on  every  .side  are  the  relics  of 
the  centuric  s agone.  A church  stands  upon  a spot  Avhere  it  is 
asserted  by  tradition  that  Christ  met  the  Apostle  Peter  who 
inquii’ed  of  h.im  where  he  was  going:  “Doviine  quo  vadisf^’  to 
which  Jesus  answered  : ^‘Vcnio  -iterum  crucifgi,”  I am  going 
to  be  crucified ; at  which  it  is  asserted,  Peter, ashamed  of  his 
rowardice,  returned  to  Rome  and  met  death  heroically.  The 
mai'ble  stone  containing  the  prints  of  the  feet  of  Christ  is 
shown  with  great  sacredness.  On  every  hand  as  one  proceeds 
are  the  monumental  tombs  and  catacombs  of  past  ages.  Upon 
this  old  Roman  road  Paul  came  to  Rome  from  Puteoli,  where 
he  had  left  the  ship.  Some  of  the  company  preceded  him  to 
the  city  while  he  “found  brethren”  who  desired  him  “to 
tarry  with  them  seven  days  ” at  Puteoli,  and  thus  tidings  of 


188  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


his  coming  preceded  liis  entering  Rome.  And  from  here  the 
hrethreu  of  the  church  went  out  this  roa,d  to  meet  him  as  far 
as  Ap])ii  Forum  and  the  Three  Taverns;  whom  when  Paul 
.«a\v  he  thanked  God  and  took  courage. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  but  that  over  this  Roman  road  Paul 
was  led  to  Rome  by.the  soldiers  from  Ciesarea.  This  was  his 
first  visit  to  Rome.  Perhaps  only  Luke  the  “ beloved  physi- 
cian ” was  with  him,  besides  the  soldiers.  This  highway  had 
then  been  the  great  thoroughfare  for  four  hundred  years,  and 
throngs  of  people  would  be  going  to  and  from  the  city  when 
he  came  near  it.  From  the  eminence  quite  outside  the  walls 
he  could  see  around  him  everywhere  the  marks  of  culture  and 
l^ower.  On  the  right  was  the  Ixauitiful  valley  down  which  the 
aijueduct  carried  the  water  for  the  proud  city.  Far  beyond 
rose  the  Sabean  mountains, — ranges  of  the  Apennines, — close 
by  him  in  tlie  rear  the  villa  and  home  of  Seneca,  the  philoso- 
pher and  tutor  of  Nero.  In  front  was  the  valley  of  the  Tiber, 
in'Avhich  lay  the  Eternal  City.  The  jialace  of  Claudius,  Cali- 
gula, and  Tiberius  on  the  Palatine  Hill  showed  their  black 
ruins  to  his  wondering  eye  as  examjdes  of  the  ambition  of 
Nero,  whose  golden  palace  now  stood  just  before  him  in  its 
grandeur,  stretching  from  the  Palatine  Hill  across  the  valley 
of  the  Colosseum  and  far  up  the  Esquiline  Hill.  It  Avas  a 
pageant  such  as  he  had  perhaps  never  seen  wdien  his  eye 
rested  on  the  terrestrial.  But  he  was  a prisoner  in  chains. 
IIoAv  could  he  hope  to  receive  justice  of  Nero?  Did  not  the 
spirit  testify  that  bonds  and  afflictions  awaited  him  in  every 
city?  What  an  hour  of  trial  it  must  have  been  to  Paul  as 
he  Avent  doAvn  this  narroAV,  smooth  Avav  to  the  city.  Hoav  he 
yearned  for  the  churches  and  brethren  he  had  left  behind, 
and  longed  to  “ impart  some  spiritual  gift”  to  those  Avhom  he 
might  find  in  Rome. 

As  I Avent  doAvn  that  Appian  Way  I could  almost  see  the 
imprisoned  apostle  walking  among  the  brethren  Avho  had  met 
him,  though  bound, the  boldest  and  most  courageous  of  all  the 
compaiAy. 

While  spending  these  days  at  Rome  I got  an  entirely  new 


PAVUS  EPISTLES. 


189 


view  of  the  amount  and  grandeur  of  the  work  done  l>y  Paul 
during  the  two  years  while  a prisoner  there,  and  under  the 
most  discouraging  eireumstauces.  Besides  the  letter  to  the 
Ephesians  he  wrote  about  the  same  time  that  to  the  Colossi- 
ans,  asking  the  church  at  Colosse  to  “continue  in  prayer.” 
“ Withal  praying  also  for  us,  that  God  would  open  unto  us  a 
door  of  utterance  to  S])eak  the  mystery  of  Christ,  for  which  I 
am  also  in  bonds.”  Among  the  early  converts  of  Paul’s  min- 
istry here  was  Onesiinus,  the  escaped  servant  of  Philemon  of 
Colosse.  This  also  caused  Paul  to  write  about  the  same  time 
of  the  other  e])istles  mentioned,  that  unitpie  private  ejnstle  to 
Philemon,  the  “dearly  beloved  and  fellow-laborer,”  in  which 
he  heseechf's  Philemon  for  love's  sake  “l)eing  such  an  one 
as  Paul  the  aged  and  now  also  a ])ri.soner  of  Jesus  Christ.” 
At  other  times  he  alludes  to  his  bonds  and  afflictions,  Imt  here 
alone  to  his  burden  of  years.  IIow  deep  and  tender  and  .self- 
sacrificing  the  great  soul  of  the  apostle  we  can  not  tell,  as  he 
sent  Onesiinus  away  with  the  hope  that  he  also  might  have 
favor  of  God  and  be  relieved  shortly.  Could  it  be  that  the 
prison-life  of  Paul  had  something  to  do  in  cultivating  in  him 
that  heart  of  Christ-like  tenderness  and.  love?  Let  us  read 
a few  verses  he  wrote  to  Philemon : 

“ I beseech  thee  for  ray  son  Ouesimus,  whom  I have  begotten  in  my 
bonds:  which  in  time  past  was  to  thee  unprofitable,  but  now  profitable 
to  thee  and  to  me ; whom  I have  sent  again  : thou  therefore  receive  him, 
that  is,  mine  own  bowel-s : whoin  I would  have  retained  with  me,  that  in 
thy  stead  he  might  have  ministered  unto  me  in  the  bonds  of  the  gospel : 
but  without  thy  mind  would  I do  nothing  ; that  thy  benefit  should  not 
be  as  it  were  of  necessity,  but  willingly.  For  perhaps  he  therefore  de- 
parted for  a season,  that  thou  shouldest  receive  him  forever;  not  now  as  a 
servant,  but  above  a servant,  a brother  beloved,  especially  to  me,  but  how 
much  more  unto  thee,  both  in  the  flesh,  and  in  the  Loi’d  ? If  tliou  count 
me  therefore  a partner,  receive  him  as  myself.  If  he  hath  wronged  thee, 
or  oweth  thee  ought,  put  that  on  mine  account;  I Paul  have  written  it 
with  mine  own  hand,  I will  repay  it : albeit  I do  not  say  to  thee  how  thou 
owest  unto  me  even  thine  own  self  besides.  Yea,  broiher,  let  me  have 
joy  of  thee  in  the  Lord : refresh  my  bowels  in  the  Lord.  Having  confi- 
dence in  thy  obedience  I wrote  unto  thee,  knowing  that  thou  wilt  also  do 
more  than  I say.  But  withal  prepare  me  also  a lodging : for  I trust  that 
through  your  prayers  I shall  be  given  unto  you.” 

What  a heart  of  love  pleading  for  “love’s  sake!” 


190  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


But  Paul,  the  prisoner  in  Rome,  whose  preaching,  though 
chained,  awakened  many  until  not  only  Onesimus  but  great 
numbers  are  saved,  eml)racing  even  those  of  “Ckesar's  house- 
hold,” and  causing  that  many  others  should  jireach  the  word 
“ with  great  boldness,”  can  not  forget  the  first  cliurch  he  had 
founded  in  ^Macedonia.  His  heart  bounds  l)cyond  the  sea.  He 
writes  his  epistle  to  the  Phili])pians  also.  It  is  one  of  the 
most  tender  of  all  his  writings,  and  in  it  he  makes  more  fre- 
quent reference  to  his  “bonds”  than  in  any  other.  It  Avas 
Avritten  latest.  These  afflictions  Avere  heavy  and  hard,  and 
brought  Avonderful  experience  to  him.  His  trial  Avas  soon 
to  occur.  He  should  ansAver  not  before  the  JeAvs  nor  Felix  nor 
Festus,  but  perchance  before  the  proud  and  miglity  Xero.  He 
Avill  soon  “see  hoAV  it  Avill  go”  Avith  him.  Yet  he  is  not  Avith- 
out  hope ; for  he  promises  not  only  to  send  Epaphroditus,  his 
“brother  and  companion  in  labor,”  as  avcII  as  Timothy,  to 
them,  but  says,  “ I trust  in  the  Lord  that  I also  myself  shall 
come  shortly.”  This  hojie  Avas  not  Avithout  realization,  at 
least  in  jiart.  After  a short  season  of  release,  in  Avhich  he 
again  A’isited  a fcAV  of  the  })laces  of  his  former  iiiinistry,  and 
anticipates  meeting  many  of  his  felloAV-laborer.‘<,  he  is  seized 
and  brought  again  to  Rome.  Here  then  in  the  severitv  of  the 
la.st  imprisonment  and  trial  he  is  almost  alone.  Demas  had 
forsaken  him,  “having  loved  tliis  ju’esent  Avorld  ” and  gone  to 
Thessalonica.  Crescens  had  dei)arted  for  Galatia  and  Titus 
for  Dalmatia,  and  Tychicus  had  been  sent  to  Ephesus,  and 
only  Luke  Avas  Avith  him  in  this  great  trial.  Wh.at  a privilege 
he  had!  He  Avas  Avith  him  at  the  first  in  Rome,  and  Avith 
him  at  the  last.  In  this  time  of  imprisonment  Paul  wrote  his 
last  E})istle  to  Timothy,  a second  letter  addresst'd  to  his  “son 
in  the  gos2)cl.”  The  dejkhs,  and  scojje,  and  love,  and  sadness, 
and  joA',  and  triumph  of  Paul  neA’er  appeared  to  me  until 
one  day  I Avent  doAvn  into  the  dark  chand)er  of  the  !Maniertine 
prison  in  Avhich  he  Avas  probably  then  confined.  He  asks 
Timothy  to  come  to  him,  and  bring  Mark  also,  saying,  “At 
my  first  ansAver  no  man  stood  Avith  me,  but  all  men  forsook 
me.”  “XotAvithstanding  the  Lord  stood  Avith  me,  and  strength- 


TWO  INCIDENTS. 


191 


onod  me;  that  by  me  the  })reaching  might  be  fully  known, 
and  that  all  the  Gentiles  might  hear : and  I was  delivered  out 
of  the-mouth  of  the  lion.” 

In  this  great  and  historic  city,  amid  the  memory  of  these 
scenes,  we  can  not  forget  two  incidents  which  gave  the  ajiostle 
great  joy.  The  one  was  the  diligent  searching  out  of  his  place 
by  Onesiphorus  of  Ephesus  when  he  was  in  Rome,  and  who 
was  not  ashamed  of  Paul’s  chain ; the  other,  that  mindful 
contribution  sent  by  Epaphroditus  from  the  church  at  Philijipi, 
who  had  twice  before  relieved  his  wants  when  he  was  at  Thes- 
salonica.  Though  Paul  had  learned  how  to  abound  and  how  to 
he  abased,  and  “to  be  full  and  to  he  hungry,  both  to  al)ound 
and  to  suffer  need,”  by  the  tlioughtfulness  of  that  churcli  he 
was  “full,  having  received  tlie  things  which  were  sent,”  by 
which  they  had  communicated  with  his  affliction,  in  that 
which  was  indeed  “an  odor  of  a sweet  smell,”  the  perfume  of 
which  is  i)recious  until  now.  Such  deeds  are  immortal. 

During  the  imprisonment  of  Paul  here  there  were  with  him 
up  to  his  sending  away  his  first  three  epistles,  Timothy,  Tychi- 
cus,  One.simus,  Aristarchus,  ]\Iarkus,  Justus,  Epaphras,  Luke, 
and  Demas.  When  he  wrote  to  Philippi  his  epistle  he  men- 
tions only  Timothy  and  Epaphroditus;  but  during  his  im- 
prisonment Crescens  and  Titus  are  with  him  for  a season.  In 
the  last  epistle,  sent  to  Timothy,  he  mentions  Eubulus,  Pu- 
dens,  Linus,  and  Claudia  as  bearing  some  part  with  him. 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  influence  of  Paul's  prison-life 
upon  his  spirit  and  character  and  the  character  of  his  writing 
I can  not  venture  to  speak  of  them  here.  It  wuis  a matter  of 
intense  interest.  While  at  Rome,  one  day  after  visiting  the 
“hired  house”  and  Mamertine  prison,  I collected  the  refer- 
ences made  by  Paul  to  his  imprisonment  in  the  epistles  writ- 
ten during  his  confinement  here.  It  may  be  of  interest  to 
read  them  now. 

In  the  Ephesians  we  have  these : “ I Paul,  the  prisoner  oi  Jesus  Christ, 
for  you  gentiles,”  (chapter  iii.  1).  And  it  was  for  his  labors  for  the  gentiles 
that  he  was  in  bonds  here.  “ I desire  that  ye  faint  not  at  my  tribulations 
for  you”  (chapter  iii.  13);  “I  therefore,  the  prisoner  of  the  Lord,  beseech 
you  that  ye  walk  worthy  of  the  vocation  wherewith  ye  are  called,” 


192  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


(chapter  iv.  1).  “ And  for  me  that  utterance  may  be  given  unto  me,  that  I 
may  open  my  mouth  boldly,  to  make  known  the  myster3'  of  the  gospel, 
for  which  1 am  an  embassador  in  bonds,  that  therein  I may  speak  boldly 
as  I ought,”  (chapter  vi.  19,  20,  and  two  succeeding  verses.)  In  Colossiaus 
he  alludes  to  his  prison-state  four  times:  “ Who  now  rejoice  in  my  suffer- 
ings for  3’ou,  and  fill  up  that  which  is  behind  of  the  afflictions  of  Christ 
in  mj'  flesh  for  his  body’s  sake,  which  is  the  chureii,”  (chapter  i.  24). 
“Withal  praying  also  for  us,  that  God  would  open  unto  us  a door  of  utter- 
ance, to  speak  the  myster\'  of  Christ,  for  which  I am  also  in  bonds,” 
(chapter  iv.  iii).  “ All  my  state  shall  T\’chicus  declare  unto  j’ou,”  (chapter 
iv.  7).  “ Remember  m\'  bonds,”  (chapter  iv.  18).  In  the  short  epistle  to 
Philemon  he  speaks  four  times  in  reference  to  his  state.  “ Paul,  a prisoner 
of  Jesus  Christ,”  (verse  1).  “ Paul  the  aged,  and  now  also  a prisoner  of 
Jesus  Christ,”  (verse  9).  “He  might  have  ministered  unto  me  in  the  bonds 
of  the  gospel,”  (verse  13).  “There  salute  thee  Epaphras  my  fellow-prisoner 
in  Christ  Jesus,”  (verse  23).  In  Philippians  the  references  to  his  impris- 
onment are  veiy  touching  indeed.  “ The  things  which  happened  unto 
me  have  fallen  out  rather  unto  the  furtherance  of  the  gospel ; so  that  my 
bonds  in  Christ  are  manifest  in  all  the  palace,  and  in  all  other  places ; and 
man\’  of  the  brethren  in  the  Lord,  waxing  confident  by  mj'  bonds,  are 
much  more  bold  to  speak  the  word  without  fear.  .Some  indeed  preach 
Christ  even  of  envy  and  strife  ; and  some  also  of  good  will : the  one  preach 
Christ  of  contention,  not  sincerelj^,  supposing  to  add  affliction  to  my 
bonds.”  (Chapter  i.  12-1(5.)  “As  both  in  my  bonds  and  in  the  defense  and 
confirmation  of  the  gospel  ye  all  are  partakers  of  my  grace,”  (chapter  i.  7). 
“ The  same  conflict  which  ye  saw  in  me  and  now  hear  to  be  in  me,”  (chap- 
ter i.  30).  “If  I be  offered  tipon  the  sacrifice  and  service  of  your  faith,” 
(chapter  ii.  17).  “ So  soon  as  I shall  see  how  it  will  go  with  me,”  (chapter  ii. 
23).  “Lest  I should  have  sorrow  upon  sorrow,”  (chapter  ii.  27).  In  his 
Second  Epistle  to  Timothy  we  have  these  passages  which  refer  to  his  per- 
ilous state : “ Be  not  thou  therefore  ashamed  of  the  testimony  of  the 
Lord,  nor  of  me  his  prisoner,”  (chapter  i.  8).  “ For  the  which  cause  I also 
suffer  these  things,”  (chapter  i.  12).  “ All  they  which  are  in  Asia  be  turned 
away  from  me,”  (chapter  i.  15).  “ Wherein  I suffer  trouble  as  an  evil-doer, 
even  unto  bonds,”  (chapter  ii.  9).  “At  mj’  first  answer,”  etc.,  (chapter 
iv.  16,  17.)  Then,  as  though  to  light  a candle  to  burn  on  and  on  above  the 
head  of  eveiw  suffering,  toiling,  persecuted,  and  afflicted  follower  of  Christ, 
as  he  saw  the  end  just  ahead,  his  prison-life  at  a close  at  last,  and  the 
storms  subsiding  with  him  in  an  eternal  calm,  he  says,  “ For  I am  now 
ready  to  be  offered,  and  the  time  of  my  departure  is  at  hand:  I have 
fought  a good  fight,  I have  finished  my  course,  I have  kept  the  faith: 
henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a crown  of  righteousness,  which  the 
Lord,  the  righteous  Judge,  shall  give  me  at  that  day : and  not  to  me  only, 
but  unto  all  them  also  that  love  his  appearing.”  (II.  Timothy  iv.  6-8.) 


LESSONS  FROM  OUR  SORROWS. 


193 


Thus  we  have  lingered  around  the  “ hired  house  ” and  this 
dungeon  jn-ison  of  the  grandest  character  known  on  earth 
since  Christ  graced  the  liuinhle  ])aths  of  mortals.  God’s  ways 
are  mysterious.  From  the  Wartburg  prison,  in  the  forests  of 
Germany,  God  gave  his  Bible  to  the  world.  Fnjin  the  Bedford 
Jail  he  gave  the  world  “ Pilgrim’s  Progress."’  From  the  pri.son- 
home  of  Paul  he  gave  the  churehes  and  the  world  these  treas- 
ures. Shall  not  the  afflicted,  tin;  burdened,  the  sorrowful, 
however  humble,  learn  a lesson  of  faitli  and  i)atience  and  la- 
lior  from  these  meditations?  There  are  times  when  we  walk 
in  darkness,  and  when  there  is  no  light.  There  are  days  of 
sore  temptation  and  trial ; there  are  seasons  of  loss  and  mis- 
fortune. Tliere  are  times  when  our  dearest  beloved  lie  cold 
in  tlie  grave  and  our  luairts  are  torn  and  bleeding  and  can  not 
he  comforted.  All  our  joys  have  turned  into  bitterness,  and 
we  mourn  in  a sorrow  of  heart  which  we  can  ]>our  out  on  no 
human  bosom.  In  such  an  hour  we  may  bear  a testimony  to 
Christ  richer  than  ever  before  if  we  only  listen  to  his  words 
which  say,  “ Let  not  3'our  heart  be  troubled ; ye  believe  in 
God,  believe  also  in  me."’ 

■ 13 


CHAPTER  VII. 


Naples — Scenes  in  Naples  — Men  — 'Wonien  — Donkeys  — Going  to  Mar- 
ket — Making  Macaroni  — Pompeii  — History  — Destruction  — Long 
Sleep  — Excursion  — Streets  — Character  of  the  People  — Lessons  — 
Vesuvius  — Various  Eruptions — Railway — Ascending  Vesuvius  — 
Terror  of  the  Mountain. 


APLES  is  the  largest  city  in  Italy,  containing  a pop- 
I;  Illation  of  four  hundred  and  fifty  thousand.  Its  sit- 
^ nation  around  the  head  of  the  Ray  of  Naples  is  one 
of  the  most  picturesipie  and  lieautiful  in  the  world. 
. b But  while  naturi!  plante<l  here  a foundation  for  splendor, 
the  jieople  have  built  poorly  indeed.  A description  of  its 
crowded  strec'ts.  high,  old  dwellings,  braying  donkeys  laden 
with  the  products  brought  to  the  markets,  of  its  Aiuib-like 
population  which  makes  its  numbers,  and  tlu'  slmuting  street- 
hawkers,  would  not  be  profitable,  as  tlie  memory  of  much 
annoyance  from  some  of  them  is  not  now  jilcasurable. 

One  (lav  of  my  sojourn  in  southern  Italy  was  given  to  a 
visit  to  the  buried  city  of  Pompeii.  It  lies  about  fourteen 
miles  from  Xa^des,  and  between  Vesuvius  and  tlie  Bay  of  Na- 
ples. A carriage  drive  of  two  and  a half  hours  through  one 
continuous  street  such  as  you  have  to  these  famous  ruins  can 
not  be  forgotten.  The  way  lies  around  the  liead  of  the  hay 
for  several  miles  directly  upon  its  banks,  while  lofty  buildings 
look  down  upon  you  from  the  otlier  side.  In  the  liay  hun- 
dreds of  boats,  large  and  small,  lie  at  rest  or  ari'  employed  by 
fishermen.  The  streets  all  the  way  for  miles  st-em  to  be  one 
continuous  market.  Such  a scene  my  eyes  never  looked 
upon.  Men,  women,  and  children,  all  dirty  and  half  of  them 
barefooted,  and  most  of  the  women  and  children  bareheaded 

194 


GOING  TO  MARKET. 


195 


crowd  the  street.  Some  were  going  to  market  one  way  and 
some  the  other;  and  others  with  a few  figs  or  peaches  or  grapes 
were  sitting  down  In*  tlie  street  or  at  the  door  of  their  house 
waiting  for  purchasers.  Men  were  driving  great  carts  with 
one,  two,  or  three  donkeys  attached  to  them, — if  three,  always 
abreast, — while  there  were  trains  of  donkeys,  each  having  a 
great  straw-basket,  almost  as  large  as  an  old-fashioned  ash-hop- 
per, on  each  side,  filled  with  red-peppers,  grapes,  figs,  or  other 
fruits,  and  kept  apart  by  a stick  under  the  beast,  often  not 
much  larger  than  a yearling  calf,  then  a man  or  woman  perched 
on  top  of  the  poor  thing.  Sometimes  a great  basket  was  set 
on  the  back  of  the  donkey  al)ove  the  huge  sacks,  and  the  man 
was  driving  the  creature  along  with  a stout,  short  hold  of  its 
tail.  Men  Avere  carrying  great  loads  on  their  backs,  and 
women  were  plodding  along  with  from  one  to  three  children, 
and  great  bundles  of  something  on  their  heads.  Every  little 
distance  was  an  old  man  or  a Avoman,  or  both,  then  a child, 
then  a young  Avoman  Avith  a child  in  her  arms,  running  after 
the  carriage  begging  until  delighted  Avith  a ten-centime  from 
us,  or  getting  none  tlie}'  turned  away  cursing.  All  this  made 
up  a scene  such  as  can  only  be  equaled  in  Naples.  Cruel  men 
Avere  beatiqg  their  poor  donkeys  to  get  them  along,  and  Avomen 
Avere  knitting  and  cooking  and  setting  out  their  Avares  by  the 
street.  Here  and  there  by  the  road-side  Avomen  Avere  sitting 
doAvn  examining  the  heads  of  the  children  or  picking  over  the 
head  of  some  neighbor.  It  was  all  a motley  scene  indeed. 

I asked  the  driver  what  those  great  quantities  of  yelloAV 
strings  Avere  Avhich  had  been  hung  uja  on  poles  to  dry.  They 
looked  like  strings  of  pie-dough.  He  told  me  it  Avas  macaroni. 
So  it  Avas.  In  those  dirty  places  Avere  hosts  of  men  almost 
Avithout  clothing,  Avorking  it  out  somehoAv  Avith  a machine,  and 
hanging  it  on  poles  in  the  clouds  of  dust  by  the  street  to  dry. 
It  is  a fine,  delicious,  and  fashionable  dish  in  America  and 
elseAvhere.  Those  who  are  fond  of  it,  or  intend  to  be,  would 
do  Avell  not  to  make  a trip  from  Naples  to  Pompeii. 

To  gain  admittance  to  the  ruins  of  Pompeii,  one  is  re- 
quired to  pay  forty  cents.  So  large  is  the  number  of  curious 


196  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


visitors  there  that  over  eight  thousand  dollars  are  realized 
every  year  as  gate-fees.  But  I cared  not  for  two  francs,  and 
soon  I was  walking  the  stony  streets  of  Pompeii,  under  the 
shadow  of  the  ruined  temples  and  walls  of  the  doomed  city. 
It  was  one  vast  tomb,  in  which  Vesuvius  had  once  buried  a 
Itroud  and  populous  city  with  relentless  fury  and  terror.  It 
was  once  a large  city  of  perhaps  not  less  than  thirty  thou- 
sand people.  Of  its  Iiistory  in  early  times  there  is  much 
obscurity.  Long  before  the  Christian  era  it  was  a Grecian 
city,  hut  became  a resort  for  the  old  Romans.  Early  in  the 
first  century  it  became  a Roman  city,  though  its  architecture 
as  now  seen  is  strongly  Grecian.  The  sculpture  and  paint 
ings  now  discovered  in  the  ruins  also  show  more  largely  the 
influence  of  Grecian  thought.  The  first  disaster  to  the  city 
was  l)v  eartlujuake  and  volcanic  ruins,  February  5th,  A.  D. 
63.  Having  been  largely  relniilt,  it  was  totally  ljuried  by 
Vesuvius,  August  24th,  A.  1).  79.  It  is  a mile,  or  jierhajis 
nearly  two  miles,  from  the  base  of  Vesuvius.  In  the  destruc- 
tion first  came  a shower  of  a.shes  three  feet  deep.  During  this, 
most  of  the  people  escaped.  But  many  had  returned  to  seek 
their  valuables,  when  red-hot  fragments  of  pumice-stone, 
melted  stone,  rained  down  like  molten  leaden  drops  to  a 
depth  of  eight  feet  on  the  city  and  surrounding  country,  and 
buried  it  in  one  awful  tomb.  It  is  believed  that  not  less  than 
ten  thousand  persons  perished  in  its  destruction.  The  earth- 
Cjuake  so  changed  the  course  of  the  river  Sarnus,  and  the  dis- 
aster to  the  city  was  so  complete,  that  its  location  was  finally 
lost  to  the  world,  and  for  over  sixt(‘en  hundred  years  Pompeii 
lay  almost  wholly  unknown  and  undisturbed  in  its  tomb  of 
ashes  and  lava.  In  these  centuries  some  excavations  Avere 
made  and  some  of  its  treasures  carried  away,  but  soon  it  sunk 
into  oblivion.  About  the  close  of  the  seventeenth  century 
some  ruins  were  discovered,  and  toAvard  the  middle  of  the 
eighteenth  century,  excavations  under  the  direction  of  Charles 
III.  Avere  made,  and  the  real  site  of  Pompeii  became  again 
knoAvn  to  the  Avorld.  Since  A.  D.  1860  the  Avork  has  gone  on  as 
it  is  doing  to-day.  Yet  over  one  half  the  city  is  entirely  cov- 


POMPEII. 


197 


erecl,  no  traces  of  the  streets  or  even  of  the  buildings  being 
visible.  The  streets  are  narrow,  the  Avidest  being  only  thirty 
feet,  crossing  at  right  angles,  and  are  paved  Avith  sc^uare  stones 
from  one  to  tAVO  feet  in  size.  These  stones  are  cut  in  ruts  of 
Avagons  half  a foot  deep,  Avhile  the  horses  Avhich  Avalked  here 
thousands  of  years  ago  have  left  their  tracks  in  the  Avorn  holes 
almost  a foot  deep  in  many  streets.  The  houses  are  yet  stand- 
ing, that  is,  their  Avails,  with  mosaic  floors  and  Avails  often  of 
marble -like  plaster,  on  Avhieh  are  many  and  Avell-defined 
paintings.  Quantities  of  statuary  adorn  ruined  halls,  fount- 
ains, baths,  and  altars,  and  thrones  of  gods.  Splendidly  de- 
signed theaters,  palaces,  and  shops  are  everyAvhere  to  be  seen. 
Hoav  many  temples  to  the  different  gods  I can  not  tell  — there 
are  many  ; and  there  are  yet  on  the  Avails  of  the  recently  ex- 
cavated buildings,  paintings  more  than  eighteen  hundred 
years  old,  so  obscene  that  they  are  closed  against  in'omiscuous 
companies  of  visitors. 

Pompeii  is  noAV  entirely  uninhabited  except  here  and  there 
where  those  emjdoyed  in  carrying  on  the  excavations  are 
quartered.  The  old  Avails  are  in  places  patched  up  or  re- 
paired, Avith  a A’ieAV  to  j)reserve  the  staggering  ruins.  A num- 
ber of  men  Avere  lazily  digging  aAvay  and  slowly  removing  the 
dirt.  What  treasures  lie  yet  undiscovered  none  can  tell,  and 
ages  Avill  pass  before  the  entire  city  Avill  be  uncovered.  Of 
course  the  tops  of  the  houses  are  entirely  gone,  and  in  the  ex- 
cavations only  the  loAver  Avails  and  floors  are  disclosed.  It  is 
Avith  sensations  of  indescribable  Avonder  and  subdued  inquiry 
that  one  treads  along  those  stone  streets  and  under  the  shade 
of  those  old  Avails.  Our  company  sat  down  amid  the  columns 
of  an  old  temple  to  rest  for  a feAv  moments,  Avhile  an  artist 
photographed  the  scene.  A Ausit  to  Pomixii  gives  one  a correct 
vieAV  of  Avhat  a city  of  commingling  Grecian  and  Roman  ideas 
Avas  in  the  time  of  our  Lord  upon  earth.  Its  architecture  and 
paintings  and  statuary  shoAV  us  the  condition  of  society. 
Many  chambers  examined  show  clearly  the  obscenity  and 
moral  degradation  of  those  of  higher  life.  In  the  more  recent 
excavations  there  have  been  found  the  places  Avhere  numbers 


19S  FBAXCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


of  bodies  f)f  men  und  women  had  lain,  and  where  their  hones 
were  in  part  or  in  whole  preserved.  By  running  jdaster  of 
Paris  into  those  cavities  around  the  bones  the  perfect  forms  of 
many  thus  lost  have  been  secured.  A number  of  these  I was 
permitted  to  carefully  examine.  Some  were  lying  upon  the 
face,  and  others  in  various  positions  — sad  mementos  of  an 
awful  fate.  As  I looked  at  the  evidences  of  the  wickedness 
of  ancient  Pompeii,  I could  not  forget  how  that  over  every 
unrepented  and  unforgiven  wrong  God  has  placed  a moral 
Vesuvius  whose  lava  of  burning  wrath  must  by  and  by  fall. 
When  old  Pompeii  was  thus  overtaken  with  horrid  doom, 
men  and  women  stopped  in  the  midst  of  busy  care  and  toil, 
and  sin  and  })leasure,  and  crime  and  shame,  and  stood  up  be- 
fore the  Judge  of  all  the  eai’th.  So  shall  our  whole  world  be 
overtaken  when  the  Son  of  man  shall  come ! 

“Oh!  on  that  da3%  that  wrathful  day! 

When  man  to  judgment  wakes  from  clay, 

Be  thou,  O Christ,  the  sinner’s  stay. 

Though  heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away ! ” 

The  first  vieAV  of  old  blazing,  smoking,  thundering  Vesu- 
vius from  a car-window,  journeying  from  Rome  to  Naples, 
about  ten  o’clock  in  the  night,  was  a sight  of  peculiar  maj- 
esty. Though  at  a distance  of  from  ten  to  twenty  miles,  for 
an  hour  I Avatched  its  great  cones  of  fire  shooting  notv  and 
then  above  the  toAvering  mount,  and  jiiercing  the  midnight 
darkness  Avhich  hoA^ercd  about  it.  Some  days  later  I had 
the  time  and  nerve  and  muscle  to  aseend  old  VesuA'ius,  the 
restless,  thundering,  smoking,  burning  mountain  of  destruc- 
tion, Avhich  it  is.  Its  eruptions  are  knoAvn  to  history  as  far  as 
profane  history  can  trace  the  events  of  this  country,  beyond 
tbe  Christian  era.  DoAvn  to  the  sixteenth  century  nine  erup- 
tions are  on  record;  since  then  half  a hundred.  Sometimes 
it  has  been  quiescent  for  ages,  and  then  burst  forth  in  its 
aAvful  ruin  upon  the  cities  and  country  about.  It  has  some- 
times throAvn  its  contents  to  great  distances.  In  1872  our 
readers  Avill  remember  an  eruption  to  have  occurred,  among 
the  most  Avonderful  in  its  history.  On  the  tAventy-sixth  of 


ASCENDING  VESUVIUS. 


199 


April  the  height  of  the  monster  scene  was  witnessed,  when 
twenty  persons  were  overtaken  and  destroyed  by  the  lava. 
The  stream  of  lava  then  issued  was  one  thousand  yards  wide 
and  twenty  feet  deep,  running  three  miles  in  twelve  hours. 
This  scene  must  have  been  ai)alling  indeed,  for  the  lava  was 
thrown  to  a height  of  four  thousand  feet.  The  lava  of  this 
eruption  is  said  to  cover  two  square  miles,  at  a depth  of  thir- 
teen feet.  At  present  its  action  is  moderate,  and  the  cone  of 
the  mountain  is  being  heightened  by  the  lava  and  stone 
thrown  out. 

A drive  of  an  hour  brought  our  company  to  the  base  of  the 
black  mountain.  Then  three  hours’  eonstant  climbing  the 
winding  way,  amid  gn'at  flats  of  lava,  then  peaks  of  the  black 
lava  rock,  then  a slojjing  meadow  covered  with  green,  then  an 
orchard  or  wood  Avith  chestnut-trees  or  vineyard,  Avith  here 
and  there  a pomegranate,  passing  by  and  beyond  the  spot 
Avhere  any  A'egetation  is,  Ijrought  our  carriage  to  the  loAver  end 
of  the  inclined  railway.  This  ascent  is  more  rugged  and  Avild 
Avith  eA’ery  increasing  turn  in  the  Avay.  The  lava  is  rolled  up 
and  puffed  up  and  piled  up  and  tAvisted  up,  sometimes  like 
hugh  sea-monsters,  then  like  bundles  of  rope,  then  like  scrolls ; 
sometimes  dark,  then  black,  then  grayisli. 

At  the  raihvaA'  station  you  take  luuch,  and  then  make  the 
ascent.  The  cars  are  o})erated  by  poAverful  steam-Avorks ; and 
Avh-ile  one  ascends  another  descends,  meeting  half  Avay.  This 
ascent  is  on  an  average  at  an  angle  of  fifty-three  feet  perpen- 
dicular to  one  hundred  of  the  slope.  At  the  steej)est  it  is 
sixty-three  degrees.  This  continues  for  the  distance  of  about 
one  thousand  yards.  All  is  black  slag  and  ashes  on  the  mount- 
ain around  us.  The  air  is  thin.  By  the  car,  in  tAvelve  min- 
utes, you  luiA'c  reached  the  aAvful  height  of  seven  hundred  and 
twenty  feet  perpendicular  aboA'e  the  observatory,  Avhich  is  tAvo 
thousand  tAvo  hundred  and  eighty-six  feet  above  sea-le\’el' at 
the  mountain’s  base.  The  lava  here  is  covered  Avith  the  ashes 
and  slag  thrown  from  the  crater.  At  the  height  reached  by 
the  cars  you  emplo}’  a guide  and  clamber  up  nearly  one 
thousand  feet  higher,  OA^er  ashes  and  slag  and  over  the  old 
crater  to  the  base  of  the  iieAv  one. 


200  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 

The  clim])ing  of  the  mountain  among  thei«e  Italian  Arabs 
is  a feat  well  performed  if  they  do  not  get  all  of  one's  money. 
For  example,  after  our  nerves  were  luit  to  the  severest  test 
from  the  trip  up  the  inelined  railway,  we  wen'  met  by  not 
less  than  a dozen  gui.les.  Our  company  employed  one  of 
them,  l)ut  the\  all  \\ minted  to  (h>  something.  lie  gui(le  like 
an  old  road-horse,  juit  up  the  mountain  through  the  slag  and 
ashes  at  a hreak-neek  s})eed.  This,  of  course,  was  to  tire  us 
out.  Then  these  fellow^  want  to  “pull"  us  up.  Fvcrvone  had 
a.  rope  ot  which  we  were  asked  again  and  again  to  take  hold. 


CKATEH  OF  VESUVIUS. 


To  pull  one  to  the  first  crater  they  charge  three  francs  — sixty 
cents  and  to  the  second,  the  higlu'st,  five*  mon*  francs,  or  one 
dollar  and  sixty  cents  in  all.  Then  another  one  will  go  liehimi 
and  push  for  the  same  price.  It  is  ratlu'r  anuising  to  .see  a 
man  tired  out  and  .scared  hy  what  is  above  anil  by  the  awful 
steeps  below  holding  on  to  a rope  and  working  his  feet  up  as 
best  he  can,  while  at  his  back  an  Italian  Aral)  is  pushing 
away  as  if  he  Avere  running  a volcanic,  mountain. 

Many  persons  are  so  terrified  by  the  scene  that  they  only 
get  to  the  top  of  the  railway  and  take  the  first  car  down  again. 


TERROR  OF  THE  MOUXTAIX. 


201 


thanking  their  prudence,  if  not  their  God,  that  they  are  safely 
down  from  that  awful  place.  There  are  few  places  on  the 
globe  where  such  sensations  fill  the  soul  and  body  of  a man  as 
when  standing  on  Vesuvius.  The  roar  and  thunderdike  tones 
which  salute  one  from  beneath  clothe  the  mountain  with  stu- 
pendous terror.  The  lava  under  foot  is  hot,  and  I had  to 
travel  briskly  to  keep  from  burning  my  shoes.  Soft,  heated 
lava  in  rolls  and  puffs  and  twists,  yellow  with  sulphur,  spreads 
out  and  piles  up  about  you  on  every  hand.  All  about  are 
crevices  and  openings  from  which  roll  up  clouds  of  smoke  and 
brimstone,  which  almost  stifle  one.  The  scenery  here  possesses 
an  awfulness  and  sublimity  combined.  It  is  terrific!  After  the 
roar  and  hissing  which  makes  the  ears  ring  for  an  hour  and 
the  feet  to  tremble,  great  volumes,  tons  and  tons,  of  heated 
stone  and  lava  at  a time  are  thrown  hundreds  of  feet  into  the 
air  and  scattered  in  pieces  amid.st  the  brimstcme  and  smoke! 
The  pieces  seem  to  threaten  your  safety,  and  the  smoke  and 
sulphur  are  ([uite  disagreeable,  and  your  feet  are  hot;  but  a 
sensation  of  bravery  makes  one  firm.  The  sensations  and 
ex2)eriences  here  on  this  angry  mountain  of  fire  were  such  as 
I had  never  felt  before.  This  awful  force  of  nature  no  philos- 
opher has  ever  yet  fathomed.  Where  these  fires  pick  up  the 
elements  which  are  poured  out  without  measure,  none  can  tell ! 
Cities  have  been  deluged  with  awful  death  by  its  volumes  of 
fire  and  lava!  What  it  has  yet  in  .store  for  the  villages  about 
and  for  the  stranger,  who  can  forecast?  It  has  gone  on  in  its 
fiery  fury  for  years  and  then  nursed  itself  to  sleep  for  cen- 
turies, only  to  burst  forth  with  unexampled  fury.  What 
dangers  lurk  here  one  is  curious  to  know  ? 0 Vesuvius,  Ve- 

suvius! How  terrible,  how  awful  its  mi.ssion  on  our  j)lanet! 
The  great  Apostle  Paul  must  have  looked  upon  its  flaming 
volumes  as  he  passed  around  to  Puteoli  on  his  way  to  Rome. 
And  still  its  old  ugly  brow  frowns  on  every  passer-by. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


Leaving  Italy  — Differences  of  Customs — Southern  Italy  — Its  Appear- 
ance— Products  — Canosa — The  Battle-field  of  Hannibal  — Storm  on 
the  Adriatic  — Bible  Descriptions  — Corfu — Greek  Clergy  — The  Peo- 
ple— Our  Palestine  Company  — Scene  on  Shipboard — Mohammedans 
at  Prayer — Barren  Hills  of  Greece — Dr.  Schlieinann — His  Life  — 
Mrs.  Schliemauu — Pirteus  — City  of  Plato. 

ITH  the  closing  days  of  September  my  sojourn  in 
Italy  came  to  an  end.  From  Brindisi  on  the  south- 
eastern coast  of  Italy  our  company  was  destined  to 
?ail  across  the  Adriatic  Sea.  The  English  cars  prevail 
over  the  continent ; but  how  widely  different  the 
pie  — their  customs  and  manners  as  well  as  habits! 
For  example,  in  England  the  people  eat  all  the  time;  on  the 
continent  they  do  not  more  than  half  eat.  In  England  there 
is  breakfast  at  7 : 00  to  8:00  a.  m.,  lunch  at  1 : 00  p.  M.,  tea  at 
6:  00  p.  M.,  and  dinner  at  9:00  p.  m.  In  France,  breakfast  at 
8 : 00  A.  M.,  and  dinner  at  6 : 00  p.  m.  In  Italy,  breakfast  at 
9 : 00  A.  M.,  and  dinner  at  7 : 00  p.  M.  East  of  Italy  the  Ameri- 
can custom  modified  prevails  — coffee  in  the  morning  as  de- 
sired, lunch  at  11 : 00  a.  m.,  and  dinner  at  6 : 00  p.  m.  Dinner 
is  the  “ s([uare  meal.” 

A day's  travel  from  Naples,  through  the  country  of  the 
brigands,  takes  you  beyond  the  termination  of  the  Apennines. 
The  country  is  somewhat  rugged  for  a distance,  but  luxuriant 
in  production.  Figs,  grapes,  and  pomegranates,  and  olive- 
orchards,  are  everywhere.  There  are  grapes  enough  in  Italy 
to  supply  and  glut  the  markets  of  the  world.  From  Foggia, 
a town  of  fifty  thousand  peoi)le, — where  I had  an  all-night 

battle  with  bed-bugs,  gnats,  and  mosquitoes,  taking  no  pris- 

202 


STORM  ON  THE  ADRIATIC. 


203 


oners, — the  way  to  Brindisi,  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  lies 
largely  along  the  shore  of  the  Adriatic  Sea.  To  the  right,  far 
away,  were  the  outlines  of  ijicturesqiie  mountains,  while  the 
country  is  level  as  a prairie,  and  quite  reminds  one  of  the 
great  prairies  of  Illinois.  It  is  very  productive,  and  easily 
cultivated ; yet  there  is  no  machinery.  The  fruits  of  the 
farther  north  are  cultivated,  and  cotton-fields  are  of  vast  size. 

At  Canosa  we  were  within  three  miles  of  the  hattle-field  on 
which  Hannibal  conquered  the  Homans  in  the  year  216  B.  C. 
On  the  famous  battle-field  of  Cannie  the  Roman  consuls  with 
an  army  of  eighty  thousand  footmen  and  six  thousand  horse- 
men were  met  by  Ilanniltal  with  forty  thousand  footmen  and 
ten  thousand  horsemen.  History  tells  us  that  of  the  Romans 
scarcely  a soldier  was  left  to  tell  the  tale,  seventy  thousand 
being  left  on  the  field  and  ten  thousand  being  taken  prisoners. 

From  Brindisi  our  vessel  had  scarcely  put  off'  to  sea  when  it 
was  struck  with  a gale,  followed  by  a fearful  storm.  This 
proved  to  be  the  hardest  night  of  all  my  journeyings.  The 
vessel  reared  and  pitched  like  a wild  beast,  mounting  high 
upon  the  waves  and  then  plunging  down  to  great  depths,  then 
rolling  as  though  to  turn  upon  the  side.  For  many  hours  the 
vessel  could  scarcely  make  six  knots  an  hour.  'W'e  were  almost 
twenty-four  hours  making  the  passage  of  about  one  hundred 
and  fifty  miles.  It  seemed  often  as  though  the  ship  must 
surely  be  broken  into  pieces.  And,  oh ! the  sea-sick.  Men, 
women,  and  children  all  sick;  and  oh,  so  sick!  women  cry- 
ing, moaning,  hallooing,  vomiting,  and  begging  for  help.  Dr. 
Schliemann,  who  was  on  board  with  his  family,  was  badly 
cut  in  the  head  and  face  by  a fall  on  the  vessel  during  the 
storm.  He  said  that  though  having  crossed  the  Adriatic 
thirty  times  and  traveled  the  world  over  he  never  was  in  such 
a gale.  It  seemed  as  if  the  end  had  come.  I could  not  but 
remember  the  trip  of  the  Apostle  Paul  over  this  same  sea, 
of  which  Luke  says,  “And  when  neither  sun  nor  stars  in 
many  days  aj)peared,  and  no  small  tempest  lay  on  us,  all  hope 
that  we  should  be  saved  was  then  taken  away.”  (Acts  xxvii. 
20.)  “ But  when  the  fourteenth  night  was  come,  as  we  were 


204  FRAXCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


driven  up  and  down  in  Adria,  about  midnight  the  shipman 
deemed  that  they  drew  near  to  yome  countr}'.”  “ Then  fearing 
lest  we  should  have  fallen  upon  rocks,  they  cast  four  anchors 
out  of  the  stern,  and  wished  for  the  day.”  (Acts  xxvii.  29.) 
No  one  can  a])prcciate  the  last  sentence  of  this  quotation  until 
tossed  up  and  down  in  a Euroclydon.  But  our  vessel  rode  the 
sea  wildly.  During  the  day  the  storm  subsided,  and  toward 
evening  we  had  a calm  sea  along  the  Turkish  coast. 

Whoever  wrote  the  one  hundred  and  seventh  psalm  had 
been  at  sea.  Here  it  is  — that  which  relates  the  experience  of 
the  seaman,  beginning  with  the  twenty-third  verse  and  closing 
with  the  thirtieth  : 

“ They  that  go  down  to  the  sea  in  ships,  that  do  business  in  great  waters ; 
these  see  the  works  of  the  Lord,  and  his  wonders  in  the  deep.  For  he 
coinniandeth,  and  raiseth  the  stormy  wind,  which  lifteth  up  the  waves 
thereof.  They  mount  up  to  the  lieaven,  lliey  go  down  again  to  the  depths: 
their  soul  is  melted  because  of  trouble.  Thej'  reel  to  and  fro,  and  stagger 
like  a drunken  man,  and  are  at  their  wit’s  end.  Then  they  cr^' unto  the 
Lord  in  their  trouble,  and  ho  bringeth  them  out  of  their  distresses.  He 
niaketh  the  storm  a calm,  so  that  the  waves  thereof  are  still.  Then  are 
they  glad  because  they  be  quiet ; so  he  bringeth  them  unto  their  desired 
haven.” 

Before  midiiigbt  our  compaii}'  were  taken  ashore  on  the 
Island  of  Corfu,  in  :i  .small  row-boat,  and  1 set  vigon)Usly 
about  the  rei)airing  of  the  wastes  of  a disordered  stoniaeb. 

Corfu  is  one  of  the  most  delightful  as  well  tis  largest  of  the 
Ionian  Islands.  It  has  about  .seventy-five  thousand  inhabit- 
ants, the  city  containing  one  third  of  that  number.  The 
occupancy  of  this  island  dates  to  the  eighth  century  before 
Ldirist.  From  1815  to  a little  over  twenty  years  ago  this  with 
the  other  Ionian  islands  was  under  the  ])rotection  of  the  En- 
glish government.  Since  18()4  it  has  belonged  to  the  kingdom 
of  Greece.  It  is  a beautiful  })lace,  and  its  surrounding  Avater, 
and  lofty  rocks  beyond,  give  it  a 2)icturesque  frame-Avork  such 
as  is  .seldom  .seen  in  any  s]»ot  on  the  globe.  During  the  Avinter 
sea.son  many  Englishmen  resort  to  this  mild  and  delicious 
climate  to  the  Avinter  months.  King  George  of  Greece 

has  a residence  here,  and  frequently  spends  a foAV  months  on 


OUR  PALESTINE  COMPANY. 


2Gj 

the  is^land.  There  are  several  free  schools  for  hoys  and  also 
for  girls,  besides  two  other  private  schools.  In  these  the  dif- 
ferent languages  are  taught. 

At  Corfu  I lirst  saw  the  Greek  clergy.  The  priests  were 
everywhere  to  be  seen,  going  alK)ut  the  streets  in  long,  heavy, 
black  cloaks,  similar  to  those  worn  by  the  Catholics  in  Italy. 
Instead  of  the  broad-brimmed  black  hat  they  wear  queer 
cylinder-like  shaped  caps.  The  dress  of  the  wonren  is  hardly 
to  be  distinguished  from  that  of  American  ladies,  but  many 
of  the  men  wear  the  oriental  costirmo  of  the  Turks  and  the 
Greeks.  ^^Tly  they  wear  these  baggy,  petticoat-like  breeches 
I do  not  know.  ►Surely  they  are  not  handsome  at  all.  Many 
of  these  have  also  on  their  heads  the  fez,  or  red  scull-cap  with 
black  tassel.  The  women  are  hand.some  of  feature  and  well 
attired.  On  evenings  the  walks  and  parks  were  thronged  with 
people,  who  pass  ’the  time  in  walking  about,  engaged  in  con- 
versation, while  groups  of  children  played  in  perfect  freedom. 

How  I dreaded  to  get  out  to  sea  again.  The  lirst  experi- 
ences on  the  Adriatic  had  been  so  terrible  that  I almost  felt 
like  a preacher  on  the  Atlantic  going  to  Euro^je,  who  inquired 
of  an  associate  if  there  was  not  some  way  to  return  to  America 
by  laud.  He  was  very  sea-sick.  Often  we  are  disappointed 
with  unexpected  iileasure.  From  Corfu  through  the  Ionian 
►sea  and  the  Archipelago  the  voyage  was  delightful;  and 
though  afterward  I s^^ent  weeks  on  the  Mediterranean  I never 
missed  a meal  and  never  was  troubled  with  sea-sickness.  At 
Corfu  live  Americans  met  us,  coming  on  the  steamer  from 
Triest.  And  this  comprised  our  company  for  the  entire  trip 
through  the  Holy  Land  and  Egypt.  Here  I give  the  names 
of  the  entire  company  : 

Eev.  W.  H.  Steck  of  Ardmore,  Pen  1155’! van ia,  a Lutheran  minister;  Rev. 

B.  St.  James  Fry,  D.  D.,  editor  ot  the  Christian  Advocate,  St.  Louis;  Rev. 
W.  DeLoss  Love,  jr.,  Lancaster,  Massachusetts,  a Congregational  minister ; 
Rev.  W.  S.  Miller  of  Pittsburgh,  a Presbyterian  minister;  J.  F.  Miller,  Esq.. 
Pittsburgh,  Pennsylvania,  Messrs.  F.  H.  Shaw  and  Charles  Shaw,  Man- 
chester, England,  Hon.  W.  W.  Sedgwick  of  Sandwich,  Illinois,  Hon.  J. 

C.  McGrew,  Kingwood,  West  Virginia,  W.  E.  Hagans,  Esq.,  Chicago,  Illi- 
nois, Dr.  H.  A.  Thompson  of  Westerville,  Ohio,  and  the  writer.  Mr. 
William  Sharman  of  London  attended  the  company  as  conductor. 


206  FBAXCK,  ITATA]  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


Two  nights  and  a day  hronght  our  steamer  to  Pirjeus,  the 
port  of  Athens.  On  this  voyage  I first  met  oriental  life.  Be- 
sides the  fcAV  Americans  and  Englishmen,  there  Avere  German, 
Frenchmen,  Italians,  Greeks,  Armenians,  and  Turks.  The 
Turks,  All)anians,  and  Greeks  Avere  a euriosity.  Their  queer 
red  fez,  and  moccasin-like  shoes  Avith  sharp  toes  turned  Tip  two 
or  three  inches  high,  Avith  a bunch  of  hair  on  the  end,  and 
their  baggy,  petticoat-like  breeches  tucked  up  at  the  knees,  as 
the  Greeks  Avear,  or  their  short,  heavily-plaited  skirts  dan- 
gling around  them,  coming  doAAUi  half  AA’ay  to  the  knees,  AA'ith 
their  legs  buckled  up  tight  in  pants  or  stockings  protruding 
at  great  length,  their  great  heaA’y  coats  or  cloaks,  covered  Avith 
AA'ool  or  hair  six  inches  long,  Avith  their  richly-colored  under- 
coats, shoAvn  noAV  and  then  as  the  great-coats  AA'ere  removed, 
made  i;p  a scene  AA'liicli  amused  one  quite  aa'cU  indeed.  They 
had  some  Avoraen  Avith  them;  l)ut  most  of  them  AA'ere  oddly 
dressed  and  much  of  the  time  coA'ered  up  from  sight  b}' 
blankets  ami  umljrellas.  Tlieir  faces  AA'ere  closely  veiled, 
and  at  most  nothing  hut  the  dark  eyes  could  Iac  seen.  How 
they  talked.  The  people, — Italians,  Greeks,  Albanians,  Ar- 
menians, and  Turks,  — all  talk  fourteen  times  more  than 
seems  to  be  necessary;  and  especially  did  it  seem  so  to 
anc  aa'Ika  could  not  undei'stand  one  of  their  Avords  in  a fort- 
niglit.  They  ai'c  a AA'ondcrful  people  to  gesture.  Their  AA'hole 
bodies  are  called  into  motion.  One  thinks  they  AA'ill  fight 
each  other  sure,  and  almost  Avishes  they  AA'ould  and  then  be 
done  AA’ith  it.  But  I saAA’  only  one  fight,  and  that  AA'as  a rough 
boatman  heating  a lad  so  cruelly  that  I AA'anted  to  giA’e  him  an 
American  pounding.  Among  the  cultured  and  refined  of  so- 
ciety this  same  amount  of  gesture  is  to  he  seen,  CA’en  in  pri- 
vate conversation,  both  froin  men  and  Avomen.  Among  this 
class  I notice  the  gesture  is  most  graceful  and  expressiA’e,  and 
seems  to  be  the  prompting, of  a Avarm,  earnest  nature.  I shall 
never  forget  the  stately  strut  and  keen  suspicious  look  of  one 
stout  old  Greek  Avho  had  tAvo  wives  Avith  him.  He  had  great 
fears  that  some  person  Avould  see  them,  and  at  several  times 
was  Avell-nigh  having  a fight  about  his  Avomen.  Knives,  dirks, 
and  chibs  Avere  the  arms  Avhich  they  bore  in  abundance. 


BARREX  HILLS  OF  GREECE. 


207 


During  all  my  journeyings  in  the  orient  I was  often  im- 
pressetl  Avith  the  devotion  of  the  Mohammedans.  When  on 
ship  they  always  scrupulously  observe  the  hours  of  prayer. 
They  would  go  out  on  deck  and  select  a suitable  place  regard- 
less of  company,  spread  down  a rug  or  mat,  and  turning  their 
face  toAvard  INIecca,  they  AA’ould  boAV  doAvn,  jdacing  their  hands 
on  their  knees  and  their  foreheads  upon  the  floor.  Thus  hoAV- 
ing  and  rising  they  Avould  pray  for  a long  time,  but  usually 
uttering  no  Avords.  After  praying  aAvhile  the}"  AA’ould  take  a 
compass  from  the  pocket,  lay  it  doAAui  before  them,  and  if  the 
A’essel  had  turiu'd  its  course  they  Avould  face  about  and  con- 
tinue their  prayers.  Nothing  seemed  to  prevent  their  dcA"otions 
Avhen  the  hour  for  })rayer  came.  Sometimes  AA'hen  they  AA'ere 
employed  unloading  or  loading  the  vessel  Avhen  stoj)ping  to 
receive  or  discharge  her  cargo,  they  Avould  suddenly  (piit 
Avork,  go  to  one  end  of  the  boat,  sjAread  doAvn  a rug  or  a hand- 
kerchief, and  perform  their  prayers  and  then  return  to  their 
Avork.  When  in  Damascus,  Syria,  taking  a Turkish  bath  one 
day  I saAV  a IMohammedan,  Avhose  bath  Avas  yet  unfinished, 
turn  aside  to  a divan  and  go  through  Avith  his  prayers,  and 
then  go  back  and  complete  his  bath. 

Passing  through  the  Archipelago  our  vessel  Avas  constantly 
in  sight  of  islands.  Some  of  these  are  beautiful  in  their  out- 
line, but  most  of  them  bleak  and  barren.  The  entire  coast 
of  Greece  seems  to  be  a barren  and  rocky  ruin  of  ages.  Its 
history  of  thousands  of  years  spreading  over  those  battle- 
croAvned  hills  and  jjlains,  snatched  from  oblivion  by  Homer, 
and  then  later  by  historians,  lends  a charm  Avithout  Avhich 
they  Avould  be  desolate  indeed.  I have  not  siiace  to  alloAV  even 
a little  revel  over  the  memory  of  these  scenes  of  battle  and 
conflict  of  the  long,  long  ago,  Avhich  Avould  read  like  fairy 
tales.  They  are  on  the  page  of  history,  poetry,  and  mythol- 
ogy, and  their  bare  fame  covers  the  bald  hills,  Avhile  ruined 
cities  lie  buried  out  of  sight,  and  treasures  vast  of  sunken 
ships  of  Avar  have  lain  for  thousands  of  years  in  the  deep 
Ionian  sea. 

This  journey  Avas  made  doubly  interesting  by  the  associa- 


208  FRANCE.  ITALY.  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


tion  of  the  world-renowned  researcher  of  antiquities,  the 
learned  antiquarian,  Dr.  Henry  Schliemann,  whom  I found 
not  only  an  agreeable  traveling  companion,  but  always  ready 
to  impart  information  upon  subjects  and  places  which  our 
journey  contemplated,  and  upon  matters  of  antiquity  in 
which  he  has  caused  a new  era  to  dawn.  He  is  a short,  heavy 
man,  with  round  German  face,  ruddy  complexion,  mustache, 
hair  cut  short  to  the  head,  wears  gray  pants,  black  vest  and 
coat,  and  a little  soft  black  hat  with  rim  rolled  up  all  round. 
I can  not  pass  without  giving  the  reader  a little  sketch  of  this 
wonderful  man  as  he  related  it.  His  father  was  a poor  Ger- 
man, and  unlearned,  but  fond  of  history,  and  especially  the 
writings  of  Homer.  The  young  Schliemann  having  read 
the  story  of  the  burning  of  Troy,  and  seeing  its  illustrations, 
believed  it  to  be  a city  the  remains  of  which  could  be  found. 
Looking  at  the  pictures  he  said,  “ Why,  there  are  the  walls.” 
He  and  his  father  then  agreed  that  some  time  he  should 
hunt  up  old  Troy  and  uncover  its  ruins.  This  thought 
followed  him  through  years  of  poverty  as  an  errand-boy  and 
as  a sailor-boy ; through  a wreck  of  vessel  in  which  he  well- 
nigh  was  lost;  through  years  of  toil,  clerkship,  and  study 
in  St.  Petersburg,  where  he  learned  the  Greek  language,  as 
well  as  other  languages;  through  the  study  of  the  French 
language,  which  he  mastered  in  six  weeks,  and  the  English, 
which  he  learned  by  listening  to  an  English  preacher  and 
saying  his  sermon  over  after  him  till  he  memorized  it; 
through  Syria,  Egypt,  and  the  East;  through  America,  where 
he  became  a citizen  of  the  United  States  by  the  admission  of 
California  as  a state  to  the  Union  during  his  residence  there; 
through  fortunes  of  trade  and  commerce,  which  brought  him 
wealth,  until  at  last  the  time  came  for  the  redemption  of  his 
promise  made  in  childhood  to  uncover  ancient  Troy.  The 
historv  of  his  research  is  well  known.  The  Turks  ordered 
him  stopped,  and  sued  him  for  damages.  When  his  errands 
to  the  treasures  of  long-gone  ages  brought  up  the  relics  of  an- 
cient Troy,  the  Greeks  were  jealous,  and  to  use  his  own  lan- 
guage, “ could  have  crucified  ” him.  I Avas  afterAvard  greatly 


PJRJX'S. 


209 


interested  in  examining  the  fruits  of  his  research  at  Mycena', 
They  have  been  presented  by  iiim  to  the  Greek  government, 
and  are  placed  in  a very  spleiulid  and  commodious  museum 
in  Athens.  It  is  a rich  gift  to  Greece  and  to  the  world  as 
well.  The  home  of  Dr.  Schliemauu  is  in  Athens,  where  he 
owns  the  most  handsome  residence  in  the  city.  He  sjieaks 
with  great  ap])reeiation  of  the  symiiathy  America,  as  well  as 
England,  has  shown  his  work.  During  the  excavations  he 
em})loys  from  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  to  one  hundred 
and  fifty  workmen  constantly.  Ills  wife  is  a tall,  command- 
ing woman,  ap2)arently  much  younger  than  he,  and  possessed 
of  great  intelligence. 

Wednesday  morning,  October  oth,  our  vessel  drove  into  the 
Bay  of  Palamis,  and  at  nine  o'clock  A.  M.  we  were  under  the 
harbor  of  Pira-us,  the  port  of  Athens.  M'hat  a scene  presentcal 
itself  to  view ! I counted  over  seventy-five  small  row-boats, 
fantastically  painted,  all  crowding  around  the  vessel  to  convey 
the  passengers  ashore,  f'ueh  rowing,  and  paddling,  and  talk- 
ing, and  gesturing,  and  climbing  to  get  on  the  vessel  as  were 
then  to  b • witues.sed  beggar  description.  But  I was  at  last 
on  the  ela.'^sic  shore  of  Greece. 

Piiaeus  is  a city  of  about  twenty-five  thousand  people,  with 
narrow,  crowded  street.s.  The  shops  are  small  and  the  markets 
thronged.  Here  again  are  the  donkeys  loaded  with  great,  lu.s- 
cious  grapes.  The  walks  of  the  streets  are  crowded  with  the 
catenets,  or  eating,  drinking,  and  smoking  jilaces.  Hosts  of 
men,  some  well  dre.ssed,  many  barefootial  and  dirty,  sat  sip- 
jnng  wine  by  the  hour,  and  smoking  cigarettes  or  the  pipe. 
Many  of  them  were  seated  on  the  ground,  tugging  away  at 
the  nargile,  which  i.i  a great  pipe  with  three  or  four  stems  to 
it,  and  bf)ttles  of  rose-water  below  the  bowl.  The  smoke  thus 
has  to  pass  through  the  rose-water,  which  of  course  cools  it 
and  gives  it  a peculiar  flavor.  Italy,  France,  and  Greece  are 
wonderful  for  drinking.  But  the  people  do  not  get  drunk. 
Water  is  used  for  purposes  of  navigation,  and  by  some  for 
ablution;  but  as  for  drink,  they  u.se  wine.  Still,  they  do  not 
become  intoxicated.  They  have  too  much  sense  and  leisure. 

14 


210  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


They  take  drinks  at  a slow  pace.  An  hour  will  he  put  in  at 
a stand  smoking  and  sipping  at  a dram.  In  America  the  hot 
poison  stuff  is  poured  down  the  throat  like  a flame  of  fire  in 
a straw-stack;  and  before  an  Italian,  Frenchman,  or  Greek 
will  have  finished  one  dram,  the  American  will  have  gone 
from  one  saloon  to  another  and  swallowed  a dozen  drams  and 
become  fearfully  drunk ! 

There  is  a railroad  from  Pircuus  to  Athens,  only  a distance 
of  five  miles.  It  is  short,  hut  all  that  Greece  has;  and  it 
brought  me  to  the  renowned  and  ancient  city  where  Plato, 
Socrates,  and  Aristotle  tauglit  more  than  two  thousand  years 
ago,  and  in  sight  of  the  academic  groves  west  of  the  city ; 
and  towering  Mars’  Hill,  in  the  midst  of  which  the  great 
Apostle  Paul  stood  more  than  eighteen  hundred  years  ago  and 
proclaimed  Jesus  Christ  the  I’isen  and  ascended  Lord  to  the 
“ men  of  Athens  ” while  his  “ spirit  was  stirred  in  him/’  as 
he  waited  for  the  coming  of  Timothy  and  Silas,  seeing  the 
“ whole  city  given  to  idolatry  ! ” 


CHAPTER  IX. 


Athens — Early  History — Location  — Surrounding  Mountains  — Ilymet- 
tus  — Pentelicus  — Aigaleos  — Lycabettus  — Pass  of  Daphne  — Sacred. 
Way  — Temple  of  Ceres — Eleusis  — Wor.ship  of  Ceres — Modern  Ath- 
ens— Athenians  — Greek  Churches  — Ancient  Athens  — The  Acropolis 
— The  Parthenon  — Erectheum  — Statue  of  Minerva  — Prop3d{ea  — 
Temple  of  Wingless  Victory  — Temple  of  Jupiter  — Temple  of  The- 
seus— Piiix  — Story  of  Demosthenes  — Odeum  of  Herodes  — Theater 
of  Bacchus  — Stadium  — xYgora — Mars’  Hill — Temple  of  Mars  — Paul 
with  the  New  Philosophy  — On  Mars’  Hill  — Surroundings  — The 
Discourse — Leaving  Athens. 


HE  pages  of  liistory  will  always  record  Athens  as  the 
representative  of  ancient  pliiloso2)hy  and  idolatry. 
Its  histoiy  conies  dimly  to  us  from  almost  a thousand 
'years  before  the  Christian  era.  Xerxes  jiut  it  in  ashes 
more  than  five  hundred  years  before  Christ,  only  to  he 
rebuilt  and  adorned  by  Themistocles  and  Pericles,  when 
its  highest  s^ilendor  was  attained,  more  than  four  hundred 
years  before  the  Christian  era.  Under  the  INIacedonian  emjiire 
it  was  a city  of  power;  and  though  sometimes  ruinously 
destroyed,  in  Roman  times  under  Hadrian,  Herodes,  Anto- 
nins, and  Marcus  Aurelius,  it  Avas  a city  of  siilendor.  For 
unbroken  ages  it  ivas  the  center  and  seat  of  iiaganism  and  of 
the  various  schools  of  jihilosoiihy.  This  ivas  true  of  it  for 
more  than  a thousand  years,  even  to  the  sixth  century,  Avhen 
under  Justinian  its  pagan  temjdes  were  either  torn  down  or 
converted  into  Christian  churches,  and  its  altars  destroyed. 
It  is  claimed  that  three  centuries  before  Christ  it  contained 
no  less  than  half  a million  people,  four  hundred  thousand  of 
whom  Avere  slaves.  For  ages  it  has  been  looked  upon  as  the 
wonder  of  the  world.  Its  location  is  surely  one  of  the  strong- 

211 


212  FRANCE,  ITALY.  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


est  and  most  picturesque  and  balmy  of  any  city  on  the  globe. 
It  is  surrounded  on  every  side  by  a plain  slightly'  varving 
from  five  miles  in  vidtb,  broader  or  narrower.  Southward 
beyond  the  plain  is  the  beautiful  Bay  of  Salamis;  south-east 
the  Hymettus  Mountains;  north-east  the  Pentelicus;  and 
westward,  beyond  the  plains  and  groves,  the  Aigaleos  INIount- 
ains.  North-east  of  the  citv  is  the  Lvcabettus,  towerimr 
conicallj'  nearly  eight  liundred  feet  in  height,  from  which  a 
splendid  view  of  the  city  and  its  surrounding  jdains  may  be 
secured.  Nearly  fourteen  miles  westward,  through  the  Pass  of 
Daphne,  is  Eleusis,  where  long  ago  Ceres  was  worshiped  in  the 
Eleusinian  mysteries  1)V  tlie  peo])le  of  Athens.  The  temple 
of  Ceres  was  one  of  the  largest  of  all  the  tireeian  temples,  and 
its  ceremonies,  to  which  tlie  initiated  only  were  admitted,  the 
most  abominal)le.  Tlie  ruins  are  vast,  and  show  an  immensity 
of  pro])ortions  which  well  sujq)orts  the  historic  statements 
resiH'cting  the  place.  The  temple  once  destroyi'd  by  tlie  Per- 
sians was  soon  restored  by  the  Athenians,  who  ordered  Ictinus, 
the  architect  of  the  Parthenon,  to  provide  the  plan  of  the 
new  temple.  It  was  consequently  ri'vived  in  the  Doric  .style 
of  architecture,  under  the  eyes  of  Phidias,  and  during  the 
splendid  dominion  of  Pericles.  Its  foundations  of  marble 
still  remain,  while  immense  columns  and  fragments  of  col- 
umns, and  statuary  and  carvings  lie  piled  with  wild  ruin  on 
ruin.  In  reaching  Eleusis  from  Athens  you  pa.ss  over  the 
ancient  sacred  way  over  which  tliousands  of  tlie  Athenians 
used  to  journey,  no  doulit  aecompanii'd  by  Dcanosthenes  and 
the  later  philosojihers,  and  Iiy  the  groves  of  the  Schools,  and 
by  many  ruins  of  old  temples  and  tombs.  One  can  not  look 
upon  the  ruins  of  these  temples  and  pass  over  the  jiaths  once 
trod  by  the  worshipers  in  them  without  wondering  at  the 
power  of  the  faith  which  held  multiplied  thousands, of  cult- 
ured people  to  such  myths  and  fabulous  stories  of  the  gods 
and  goddesses  as  were  related  in  the  temple  at  Eleusis. 

Modern  Athens  is  not  wholly  unlike  its  former  self,  in  every 
respect,  though  but  indeed  the  shadow  of  that  which  was. 
The  houses  of  a considerable  part  of  the  city  are  of  marble, 


ATHENIANS. 


213 


nr  plastered  white,  and  are  very  beautiful,  while  the  king’s 
palace  and  gardens  toward  the  center  lend  a charm  to  the 
city.  These  more  comfortable  dwellings  are  modern  in  con- 
struction, but  usually  with  flat  roofs,  and  present  a tasty 
appearance.  The  larger  portion  of  the  city  has  narrow, 
crowded  streets,  though  not  so  dirty  as  those  of  Rome,  and 
houses  poor  enough’  indeed.  The  people  are  swarthv.  The 
men  are  strong  and  active,  while  the  women  seen  are  of  great 
variety  of  appearance.  The  lower  class  are  exceedingly 
homely,  while  the  middle  class  are  often  exceedingly  hand- 
some, with  round  features  and  })iereing  eyes.  The  higher  class 
of  men  are  as  sj)lendid  specimens  of  humanitv  as  are  any- 
where to  be  met  on  the  globe.  There  are  a number  of  schools 
for  boys,  as  well  as  othc'rs  for  girls.  Atlums  has  a univer- 
sity.with  tifty  professors  and  teachers  and  a large  attendance 
of  students,  which  gives  a full  university  course.  It  has  one 
English  church  and  some  Protestant-Greck  churches,  with  a 
number  of  Greek  churches.  Its  present  jiopulation  is  not  far 
from  fifty  thousand.  Many  of  the  people  dress  in  the  Greek, 
Turkish,  and  Allianian  co.stume.s,  while  most  of  the  more 
wealthy  class  dress  according- to  modern  Euroiiean  customs. 
Many  of  the  peasant-women  have  on  a simple  gown,  and  a 
lieavy  sack,  while  their  heads,  and  often  their  feet,  are  left  to 
go  bare.  Now  and  then  a woman  may  be  seen  in  Grecian 
dress,  with  a red  fez  or  close  skull-cap,  with  a yellow'  or  blue 
tassel  dangling  from  the  top.  The  men  are  exceedingly  dirty 
in  the  markets,  while  in  the  evenings  numbers  of  well-dressed 
men  assimible  in  the  drinking-places  on  the  streets  or  cafen- 
ets  to  gamble,  drink,  and  smoke.  The  people  are  shrewd, 
and  generally  well  educated.  The  great  masses  of  the  2)eople 
do  not  attend  religious  services  at  all,  and  the  Greek  churches 
have  no  accommodations  for  them.  The.se  churches  are  gor- 
geously, not  to  say  idolatrously,  painted  and  filled  with  im- 
ages and  altars,  but  have  no  seats  for  the  peojile.  I attended 
one  service,  at  which  the  jiricsts  were  performing  their  semi- 
heathen  ceremonies,  and  a few  people  came  in  and  made 
crosses  on  their  breasts  and  foreheads,  and  knelt  dowm  a few 


214  FRANCE,  FFALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


times,  looking  sad,  and  then  went  away,  while  the  priests 
and  choir  went  on  with  their  worship. 

It  is  111)011  the  Athens  of  twenty-two  and  twenty-five  centu- 
ries ago  that  one  looks  again  and  again  with  ever-increasing 
wonder.  Turn  the  eye  in  any  direction  and  it  is  met  hy  rel- 
ics of  ancient  philosophy  and  paganism  combined,  which 
enable  the  present  age  to  test)  the  records  of  history  and 
make  a comparison,  or  at  least  a contrast,  of  these  systems 
of  the  past  with  the  products  of  the  civilization  of  the  Chris- 
tian world  of  to-day.  That  which  has  long  been  mythical  and 
dreamy  becomes  real,  and  that  which  you  esteemed  only  as 
the  vision  of  a dead  poet,  rises  up  in  its  stalwart  skeleton  clad 
in  the  dusty  garl)  of  ages. 

In  the  center  of  these  century-crowned  ruins,  and  almost 
in  the  center  of  the  city,  is  the  Acropolis,  a great  hill  over  one 


ATHENS,  WITH  THE  ACHOPOLIS. 


thousand  one  hundred  feet  in  length,  and  nearly  half  as  wide, 
with  a height  of  three  hundred  feet  above  the  level  of  the 
citv.  From  the  Acropolis,  as  well  as  from  the  Lycabettus,  a 


THE  PA  R T II EXOX. 


215 


commanding  view  of  the  city  is  presented  to  the  eye.  Over 
the  iiroad  surface  of  the  Acropolis,  sloping  slightly  from  the 
center,  stand  vast  ruins. 

The  Parthenon,  the  great  temple  of  IMinerva,  the  virgin  god- 
dess of  Athens,  over  two  hundred  feet  in  length  and  one  hun- 
dred feet  wide,  built  by  Pericles  and  Phidias,  four  hundred 
and  thirty-eight  years  before  Christ,  crowns  the  Acro})olis. 
Its  cost  is  given  at  three  million  five  hundred  thousand  dol- 
lars. Its  Ionic  columns  and  its  Avails  Avere  entire  of  Penteli- 
cus  marble.  No  less  than  thirty-tAVO  of  these  columns  are  yet 
standing.  They  are  lieaA’ily  tinted,  six  and  one  fourth  feet  in 
diameter  and  oA'cr  thirty-four  feet  high.  In  this  temple  stood 
the  goddess  Minerva, — Avhose  temple  it  Avas, — draped  in  .solid 
gold,  and  her  l)reast  adorned  AA'ith  iA'ory.  This  goddess  stood 
upon  tlie  toAvering  height  of  almost  forty  feet,  garbed  in  gold 
of  ten  thousand  ])ounds!  In  one  hand  she  held  a .shield, 
and  in  the  other  an  uplifted  glistening  spear.  The  figures 
of  Theseus,  Hercules,  the  riA'cr  god,  and  many  others,  Averc  in 
the  Partlu'uon.  It  is  justly  regarded  the  most  Avonderful 
specimen  of  Greidc  architecture. 

Near  to  this  temph?  of  the  virgin,  on  the  north-east  of  the 
Acropolis,  stand  the  ruins  of  the  Ifrechthcum,  the  mo.st  re- 
vered of  all  the  Athenian  temples,  as  its  delicate,  marA’elous, 
and  exquisite  carvings  yet  Avell  attest.  Homer  says  Erech- 
theus  Avas  horn  of  the  earth  and  nurtured  by  the  goddess 
Athena,  and  by  luo-  installed  in  her  Athenian  temple,  Avhere 
the  Athenians  otfer  to  him  annual  sacrifice.  It  must  luiA'e 
stood  here  comphded  four  hundred  years  before  Christ  Avas 
born  in  P>ethlehem.  It  Avas  a splendid  temple,  Avith  porticoes 
of  fluted  columns  on  the  north  and  east  and  south.  Be- 
tAveen  the  Erechtheum  and  the  Partlumon  stood  the  bronze 
statue  of  Athena  (INIinerA'a),  the  Avork  of  Phidias.  It.s  height 
is  helicAU'd  to  IniA’c  been  sixty  feet. 

On  the  AA'est  end  of  the  Acropolis  stand  the  ruins  of  the 
Propyhea,  built  four  hundred  and  thirty -seven  years  before 
Christ,  at  a cost,  it  is  said,  of  four  hundred  thousand  pounds! 
It  also  is  of  Pentelic  marble.  It  Avas  one  hundred  and  se\"- 


TEMPLE  OF  THESEUS. 


217 


only  feet  in  length,  while  a^fliglit  of  s^ixty  ^teps,  over  seventy 
feet  wide,  led  to  the  portico  sixty-nine  feet  broad,  gnurded  hy 
six  fluted  Doric  columns.  There  are  two  wings  on  the  nortli 
and  south,  twenty-four  feet  wide,  projected  hy  tlie  sides  of  tlie 
portico.  The  fronts  of  these  faced  each  other  with  a porch  of 
three  Doric  columns.  Its  surroundings  of  ruins  suggest  a 
temple  of  grandeur. 

West  of  tlie  southern  end  of  the  Propyhea  stands  the  Tem- 
ple of  AV'ingless  Victory,  of  a somewhat  later  date,  erected  in 
honor  of  the  godde.ss  Athena,  under  a different  character  and 
name. 

Directly  east  from  the  Acropolis,  in  the  lower  part  of  the 
city,  are  the  massive  columns  of  the  Temple  of  Jupiter,  called 
the  Clymjiium.  Of  its  one  hundred  and  twenty -four  tre- 
mendous columns  of  the  Corinthian  order,  fifteen  are  stand- 
ing anti  one  is  lying  prostrate.  This  temple,  begun  in  the 
earlier  history  of  Athens,  by  Pisistratus,  in  honor  of  the  god 
Zeus  Olympus,  seems  to  have  waited  more  than  six  hundred 
years  for  its  completion,  and  was  not  dcdicati'd  until  the  time 
of  Hadrian.  A.  D.  13G.  It  was  three  hundred  and  fifty-four 
feet  long  ;..nd  one  hundred  and  seventy-one  feet  wide,  and 
over  fifty-five  feet  high.  The  columns  of  marble  are  six  feet 
four  inches  in  diameter.  Vow,  after  the  lapse  of  rolling  ceii- 
turic.s,  most  of  the  marble  of  the  Temple  of  Jupiter  has  been 
removed.  The  worship  of  Jupiter  long  ages  ago  became  a 
myth  ; and  under  the  shadows  of  these  old,  lonely  columns, 
on  the  gravel  earth,  I saw  men  collect,  and  around  tottering 
tables  there  sit  and  drink  wine  to  gods  of  their  own  fancy. 

The  best  preserved  of  all  the  temjiles  of  the  gods  is  the 
Temple  of  Theseus,  which  stands  almost  without  the  loss  of  a 
single  part  — a relic  of  the  architecture  and  service  of  the 
gods  from  beyond  the  dark  ages  and  beyond  the  Christian 
era.  It  is  much  smaller  than  the  Parthenon  or  the  Temple 
of  Ji.piter,  being  one  hundred  feet  in  length,  but  shows  the 
came  style  of  architecture  as  the  former.  It  has  fluted  Doric 
columns,  and  the  frieze  around  the  top  is  crowded  with  repre- 
sentations in  marble  of  the  achievements  of  the  gods.  It  is 


218  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


not  a little  remarkable  that  its  preservation  from  complete 
destruction  is  owing  to  its  having  been  converted  into  a 
Christian  church.  It  is  now  a museum,  and  contains  a num- 
ber of  the  most  valuable  discoveries  of  recent  excavations, 
but  without  order  or  arrangement. 

South-west  from  the  Acropolis  is  the  Pnyx,  where  the  par- 
liament of  the  Athenians  assembled.  The  form  is  nearly  that 
of  a semi-circle,  with  the  Bema  or  pulpit  of  solid  rock  remain- 
ing. The  Bemn  is  a part  of  the  great  perpendicular  rock, 
which  forms  the  rear  of  the  Pnyx.  Tlie  area  of  the  court  is 
said  to  contain  about  twelve  thousand  sijuare  yards;  and  not 
less  than  eight  thousand  people  might  stand  upon  it.  It  was 
not  provided  with  seats,  as  was  the  Stadium,  or  with  awnings, 
such  as  the  theaters,  which  had  both  .seats  and  awnings;  hut 
from  this  Bema  of  rock,  almost  a dozen  feet  high  and  ten  feet 
wide,  Demosthenes,  Pericles,  Tliemistoeles,  Aristides,  and  So- 
lon used  to  thunder  forth  their  great  orations  in  tlie  hearing 
of  the  asseml)led  Athenians.  If  the  wind  blew  from  the 
north  then  as  wlien  1 tried  my  voice  just  a little  on  it,  there 
is  no  wonder  Demosthenes  tried  to  strengthen  his  voice  by 
speaking  with  pebbles  in  his  mouth. 

It  is  related  that  once  wlien  Demosthenes  was  sjieaking  to 
the  Athenians  upon  a subject  which  he  esteemed  of  great 
importance  the  iieojile  grew  listless  and  drow.sy.  The  orator 
called  loudly  for  their  attention,  stating  that  he  had  a story 
to  relate  to  them.  Their  attention  being  partly  regained,  he 
began  to  tell  them  about  a certain  Greek  who,  he  alleged,  had 
hired  a donkey  to  go  from  Athens  to  Mezarra.  He  fell  into  a 
quarrel  with  another  who  joined  him  on  the  journey,  and 
who  persisted  in  walking  in  the  shadow  of  the  donkey.  The 
first  man  contended  that  he  had  hired  the  donkey  and  his 
shadow,  while  the  other  as  stoutly  claimed  that  the  shadow 
was  not  his  alone,  l)ut  belonged  to  himself  as  well.  Here  De- 
mosthenes discontinued  the  story.  Great  numbers  called  out, 
demanding  that  the  story  he  completed.  To  this  Demosthenes 
replied:  “Oye  Athenians,  will  ye  hear  me  when  I tell  you 
a story  of  an  ass,  and  give  no  heed  when  I sp(>ak  to  you  con- 


STADIUM. 


219 


cerning  matters  of  greatest  importance?”  This  address  of  the 
Athenian  orator  would  not  be  wholly  inapplicable  to  some 
American  audiences. 

South  of  the  Acro^jolis  and  immediately  against  it  at  the 
western  end  was  the  Odeum  of  Herodes,  a vast  theater,  with 
a diameter  of  two  hundred  and  forty  feet  within  the  walls, 
and  seats  for  six  thousand  persons.  There  are  large  portions 
of  its  walls  remaining,  and  its  .seats  sliow  alnio.st  j)eiTectly  its 
structure. 

Directly  eastward  and  at  the  south-east  of  the  Acropolis  is 
the  theater  of  Bacchus,  which  for  ages  has  been  completely 
covered,  but  by  recent  excavations  has  been  opened  to  j^erfect 
view.  It  was  founded  and  constructed  in  the  early  history 
of  Athens,  and  was  probably  completed  by  Lycurgus  three 
hundred  and  forty  years  before  Christ.  After  destruction  had 
fallen  to  it  the  Emperor  Hadrian  restored  it  A.  I).  117.  It 
was  again  restored  two  hundred  years  later.  The  marble  seats 
or  chairs  for  the  different  priests  of  the  gods  remain  in  their 
places  where  they  were  covered  for  many  centuries.  Many 
fragments  of  statuary  and  carvings  remain,  .showing  tlie  spirit 
of  the  god  of  wine. 

Eastward  from  the  Temple  of  .Iu})iter  and  across  the  Ilissus 
streamlet,  and  on  its  southern  banks,  is  the  great  Panathenaic 
Stadium,  whei'e  the  Grecian  games  and  races  were  performed 
in  the  open  air,  under  the  gaze  of  the  assembled  thousands. 
It  was  planned  by  Lycurgus  (B.  C.  340).  Tbe  length  of  the 
course  is  six  hundred  and  sixty-three  feet,  and  the  widtli  one 
hundred  feet.  It  is  a great  amphitheater  excavated,  leaving 
the  hill  sloping  upward  on  eitlier  side  and  at  the  southern 
end  in  a circle.  On  either  side  were  eleven  tiers  of  seats,  and 
seven  in  the  circular  end,  with  a stand  or  porch  for  the  juilges. 
The  racers  started  at  the  circular  end,  running  down  on  one 
side  and  returning  on  the  other  to  the  place  of  beginning, 
where  was  the  final  prize,  the  first  being  at  the  north  end. 
It  had  seats  for  fifty  thousand  people,  who  there  assembled  to 
witness  the  races  of  the  athletes.  The  entire  Stadium  was  of 
Pentelicus  marble,  winch  glistened  in  the  sun  like  a sea  of 


220  FRAXCE,  ITATA',  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


fire.  At  the  time  of  Hadrian,  history  tells  us  it  u’as  the  scene 
of  gladiatorial  contests;  and  that  emperor  presented  one  thou- 
sand wild  beasts  to  be  hunted  in  the  Stadium  at  a season 
when  he  was  present.  The  outlines  of  the  Stadium  and  its 
form  remain  as  at  the  beginning,  and  a small  2>ortion  of  the 
marl)le  wall  at  the  circular  end;  l)ut  most  of  the  marble  of 
its  s2)lendor  was  long  ago  burned  into  lime  in  the  very  arena. 
Never  until  climbing  over  this  great  structure  in  the  earth, 
looking  down  from  its  height  to  the  arena  below,  and  then 
looking  up  to  the  seats  where  once  sat  fifty  thousand  Atheni- 
ans watching  from  every  side  the  games  below,  did  I under- 
stand the  force  of  the  ai)Ostle’s  allusion  to  such  a spectacle 
Avhen  he  says,  “Wherefore,  seeing  we  also  are  com})assed  about 
with  so  great  a^  cloud  of  witnesses,  let  us  lay  aside  every 
weight,  and  the  sin  which  doth  .so  easily  beset  us,  and  let 
us  run  with  ])atience  the  race  that  is  set  before  us.” 

Between  the  Pnyx  on  the  south-west  and  the  Acrojiolis  on 
the  east  and  the  Areopagus  on  the  north  lay  the  Agora,  or 
market-place,  filled  with  statuary  in  the  time  of  the  glory  of 
Athens,  and  with  many  altars.  Here  the  people  were  wont 
to  assemble  and  spend  “their  time  in  nothing  else  but  either 
to  tell  or  to  hear  some  new  thing.”  Now  it  is  unoccupied,  and 
great  cacti  and  a few  small  trees  adorn  its  bare  face,  once 
crowned  l)y  the  glory  of  the  gods. 

West  of  the  Acropolis  and  north  of  the  Agora  is  the  Areop- 
agus, or  INIars’  Hill,  on  which  the  high  senate,  which  was 
the  criminal  court  of  Athens,  held  its  .sessions.  It  was  called 
ISIars’  Hill  from  its  being  the  place  of  the  trial  of  the  god  Mars. 
It  is  an  almost  peri>endicular  rock  on  the  south,  east,  and 
north,  and  is  .several  hundred  feet  long  and  ninety  feet  wide, 
though  not  so  high  as  the  Acropolis.  It  is  about  thirty  feet 
above  the  Agora,  — the  front.  It  had  no  temple  on  it,  though 
the  Temple  of  Mars  is  bclievc'd  to  have  stood  quite  against 
it  on  the  south  side  and  to  the  we.st  of  the  center.  It  was 
from  this  place  “in  the  midst  of  Mars’  Hill”  that  the  Apos- 
tle Paul  preached  his  memorable  discourse  to  the  “men  of 
Athens.”  Fifteen  stei>s  remain  j)erfect  on  the  south  side,  by 


MAHS'  HILL. 


221 


means  of  which  the  ascent  was  gained.  They  are  seen  near 
the  middle  of  the  rock  as  shown  in  our  illustration. 

Here  we  have  a view  of  the  great  a})ostle,  such  as  is  no- 
where else  to  be  obtained.  At  other  places  we  have  him  in 
“labors  oft,”  in  others  we  see  him  “made  a spectacle  unto 
the  world,  and  to  angels  and  to  men,”  hungry  and  thirsty  and 
naked  and  buffeted,  having  no  certain  dwelling-place,  “ al- 
waj’s  bearing  about  in  the  body  the  dying  of  the  Lord  Jesus. 
At  other  places  we  behold  him  amid  the  breaking  of  the  tender 
bonds  of  those  who  sorrowed  most  beciiusi'  they  should  see 
his  face  no  more;  but  at  Athens  we  have  Paul  in  a crucial 


MARS’  HILL. 


hour  when  the  test  of  the  profoundest  philosophies  of  ancient 
Greece  must  be  put  to  the  gospel  he  preached.  Here  must  be 
tested  his  ability  to  present  through  Christ  in  the  presenc(‘ 
of  the  renowned  philosophers  of  the  world,  the  profounder 
philosophy  which  should  overshadow  all  the  loftie.st  thoughts 
of  men.  In  the  very  citadel  of  Grecian  paganism  with  its 
frowning  temples  and  altars  and  idols  on  every  side  he  has  to 
declare  that  the  Godhead  was  not  “ like  unto  gold  or  silver,  or 
stone,  graven  by  art  and  man’s  device.”  As  I read  that  dis- 
course on  Mars’  Hill,  sitting  where  Paul  stood,  my  heai’t  was 
overwhelmed  and  I wept  as  a child. 


222  FRANCE,  ITATA\  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 

Paul  was  fresh  from  the  prison  of  Philippi,  where  he  had 
been  beaten  “ openly  and  uncondemned,”  and  where  God  had 
given  triumph  and  salvation  at  the  midnight,  and  from  the 
uproar  and  assault  of  Thessalonica,  and  latest  from  Berea 
where  the  Jews  “ came  thither  also  and  stirred  up  the  jjeojile.” 
The  brethren  had  come  with  him  to  Athens.  He  had  not  be- 
fore visited  this  great  and  proud  city.  Fifty  miles  aAvay  in 
Mount  Parnassus  Avas  the  oracle  of  Delphi,  and  a feAV  miles 
aAvay  the  Eleusinian  Temple,  Avherein  the  mysteries  of  Ceres 
the  goddess  Avere  celebrated.  Athens  Avas  crowded  Avith  the 
splendor  of  temples  to  the  gods.  Paul  returned  Avord  to  Tim- 
othy and  Silas  “ to  come  to  him  Avith  all  speed.”  lie  Avas 
lonesome  amid  those  surroundings. 

Perhaps  for  a season  the  apostle  sought  rest  and  passed  a 
feAV  days  observing  the  character  and  life  of  the  citizens.  lie 
had  seen  the  theater  of  their  games,  and  the  groA^es  and 
porches  of  the  schools  and  philosophers,  and  Avell  enough 
understood  the  teachings  of  the  learned  of  Athens  of  former 
times.  Temple  after  teni})le  of  marble  Avith  costly  adornment 
reared  to  the  gods  met  his  eye.  He  beheld  the  devotions  of 
the  people,  and  heard  their  impiiry  after  philosophy — “for  all 
the  Athenians  and  strangers  Avhich  Avere  there  si)ent  their 
time  in  nothing  else,  but  either  to  tell  or  to  hear  some  neAV 
thing.”  This  aroused  his  thoughts.  The  pagan  Avorship  made 
him  tremble  Avith  jealousy  for  the  true  God.  “ Ills  spirit  av:is 
stirred  in  him  Avhen  he  saw  the  city  Avholly  given  to  idolatry.” 
He  must  be  about  his  Master's  business.  Tavo  opportunities 
are  open  to  him,  and  two  fields  before  him.  There  is  his 
“ heart’s  desire  and  prayer  to  God  for  Israel  ” that  they  may 
be  saved.  First  he  sought  the  synagogue  of  the  JeAvs,  and 
discussed  and  taught  “Jesus  and  the  resurrection.”  Next  AA'as 
the  Agora  or  market-idace,  betAveen  Areopagus  the  seat  of  the 
highest  senate,  and  the  Pnyx  Avhere  the  largest  gatherings  of 
the  people  Avere  held.  Here  Avere  “ devout  persons  ” to  Avhom 
he  preached  Christ ; hut  here  also  Avere  collected  day  by  day 
the  philosophers  of  the  Epicureans  and  of  the  Stoics.  With 
these  he  soon  came  in  contact,  for  they  “encountered  him.” 


PAUL  WITH  THE  XEW  PHILOSOPHY. 


223 


Yet  they  felt  the  force  of  his  preaching.  lie  was  probably 
not  imposing  in  appearance;  a man  of  small  stature,  and 
possibly  slow  of  speech.  lie  seemed  to  be  a babbler  ” or  base 
fellow ; yet  his  thought,  his  teaching,  his  stirred  and  stirring 
spirit  made  him  seem  to  them  a “setter  forth  of  strange 
gods;”  for  to  them  also  he  preached  “Jesus  and  the  resurrec- 
tion.” These  subjects  were  wonderful  within  themselves. 
Amid  the  altars  which  stood  in  the  Agora  and  deaf  gods  about 
him  and  in  the  temples,  he  told  of  the  crucifixion  of  Christ 
in  Jerusalem  and  of  his  wonderful  rising  from  the  tomb  of 
Joseph  the  third  day.  There  was  no  story  of  all  the  gods  of 
Athens  like  that.  For  very  desire  to  “hear  some  new  thing” 
these  phil()so})hers  who  alone  would  have  the  right  to  do  so, 
“took  him  and  brought  him  into  Areopagus,  saying,  ‘ May  we 
know  what  this  new  doctrine  whereof  thou  speakest  is  ? For 
thou  bringest  certain  strange  tilings  to  our  ears;  we  would 
know  therefore  what  these  things  mean.  ’” 

It  is  early  in  the  morning.  The  court  has  just  adjourned. 
The  philosophers  and  judges  are  still  on  their  seats,  and  the 
crowds  are  assembled  in  the  Agora.  The  sun  is  up  from 
beyond  the  Ilymettus,  and  is  lifting  his  silvery  face  above  the 
Temple  of  Jujiiter  and  over  the  Parthenon,  and  above  tbe 
statue  of  ^linerva.  The  apostle  ascends  the  steps  of  stone  cut 
in  the  solid  rock.  As  the  summit  of  the  steps  is  reached, in 
his  front,  a little  to  the  right  and  below  him,  full  in  sight,  is 
the  Temple  of  the  Winds,  with  its  figures,  devices,  and  dials 
glistening  in  the  sunlight.  Far  away  across  the  city,  north- 
ward, his  eye  rests  on  the  groves  and  porches  of  the  Schools, 
while  in  the  same  direction,  but  only  a few  paces  distant,  is 
the  magnificent  temple  to  the  god  Theseus.  As  he  advances 
westward  to  “the  midst  of  Mars’  Hill,”  the  hill  of  the  Nymphs 
is  before  him,  and  southward  under  the  cover  of  the  hill, 
directly  facing  him  across  the  Agora,  is  the  Pnyx,  where  the 
assembly  of  thousands  is  wont  to  be  made  before  the  Bema 
cut  in  solid  rock.  As  he  turned  his  face  directly  southward 
toward  the  judges’  seats,  far  down  to  the  left  and  beyond  the 
Acropolis  just  under  the  rising  sun  was  the  awful  Temple  of 


L24  FRANCE,  ITALY,  (1  REECE.  AND  TCRKEY. 


Jupiter,  yet  uncompleted,  while  closer  uitoii  the  heights  of  the 
Acropolis  rose  the  s])leiulid  and  most  revered  of  all — the  Tem- 
jde  of  Erechtheus.  On  the  same  eminence  to  the  right  stood 
the  Parthenon,  the  temple  of  the  virgin  goddess  of  Athens 
already  gray  with  half  a thousand  3'ears,  in  which  was  en- 
shrined the  gold-veiled  goddess  INIinerva,  and  beside  which  in 
towering  height  stood  the  bronze  statue  of  the  goddess  Athena, 
whose  spear,  glittering  in  the  burning  sun,  pierced  the  heav- 
ens above  the  temj^les,  until  the  mariner  on  the  distant  sea 
guided  his  vessel  b}'  its  blaze.  Almost  beneath  him,  agains^ 
the  rock-hill  on  which  he  stood  was  the  Tenij^le  of  Mars,  while 
directly  in  front  lav  the  Agora,  crowded  with  the  statues  of 
the  gods,  and  with  altar  after  altar.  The  Athenians  stretch- 
ing out  after  the  unknown  had  built  an  altar  with  an  inscrip- 
tion, “To  the  unknown  God;”  and  by  this  the  apostle  had 
just  come.  It  was  an  awful  hour.  Never  did  mortal  man 
plead  the  cause  of  God  amid  such  terrific  surroundings.  The 
test  of  fire,  such  as  liurned  on  Carmel,  might  not  be  repeated 
here.  Christ  had  come  and  suffered  and  risen  and  ascended 
to  the  Father,  and  must  be  ])reached.  The  character  of  the 
eternal  God  must  be  set  forth.  And  amid  these  surrounding 
temples  Paul  declares  the  profoundest  truth  of  the  eternal 
ages.  He  stands  alone,  and  solitary,  the  defender  of  that 
truth,  in  a city  so  given  to  idolatry’  that  it  was  indeed  one 
temple  of  idols. 

Nor  was  the  sermon  less  wonderful  than  the  scenes  amid 
Avhich  it  was  proclaimed.  It  was  approi)riately  introduced : 
“ Ye  men  of  Athens,  I perceive  that  in  all  things  }'e  are  too 
superstitious.”  A better  reading  would  perhaps  be,  “ exceed- 
ing careful  in  your  religion.”  He  courteoush'  referred  to  > 
their  great  attention  to  matters  of  religion ; did  not  charge 
them  with  superstition  in  the  first  sentence  of  his  sermon  as 
the  authorized  version  would  indicate.  Such  an  element  no- 
where else  appears  in  the  discourse.  He  proceeds,  “For  as  I 
passed  bj’  and  beheld  your  devotions,  I found  an  altar  with 
this  inscription.  To  the  unknown  God.  Whom  therefore  ye 
ignorantly  worship,  him  declare  I unto  jmu.”  The  introduc- 


THE  GREAT  DISCOURSE. 


225 


tion  led  directly  to  the  discourse.  That  discourse  began  just 
■where  all  their  religion  found  its  deepest  mystery,  and  long- 
ing for  tlie  unknown.  Then  amid  these  temj)les  of  idols  he 
lifts  up  the  shafts  of  truth  and  reveals  to  the  Athenians  the 
character  of  that  God  who  “dwelleth  not  in  temples  made 
v.’ith  hands,”  such  as  tliese  about  him.  “ God  that  made  the 
world  and  all  things  therein,  seeing  that  he  is  Lord  of  heaven 
and  earth,  dwelleth  not  in  temples  made  with  hands;  neither 
is  worshiiK'd  with  men's  hands,  as  though  he  needed  any- 
thing, seeing  he  giveth  to  all  life,  and  breath,  and  all  things; 
and  hath  made  of  one  blood  all  nations  of  men  for  to  dwell 
on  all  the  face  of  the  earth,  and  hath  determined  the  times 
before  ap]iointed,  and  the  bounds  of  their  habitation;  that 
the}'  should  seek  the  Lord,  if  haply  they  might  feel  after  him, 
and  find  him,  though  he  be  not  far  from  every  one  of  us;  for 
in  him  we  live,  and  move,  and  have  our  being;  as  certain 
also  of  your  own  poets  have  said.  For  we  are  also  his  off- 
S])i’ing.  Forasmuch,  then,  as  we  are  the  offspring  of  God,  -we 
ought  not  to  think  that  the  Godhead  is  like  unto  gold,  or  silver, 
or  stone,  graven  by  art  and  man’s  device.”  He  had  made  the 
great  doctrinal  announcement.  Another  truth  conclusive 
and  iiractical,  sho-wing  not  what  God  is  within  himself,  or 
what  concej)tion  his  offspring  are  to  have  of  his,  character, 
but  disclosing  what  God  requires  of  man,  and  what  are  the 
all-conquering  evidences  of  these  claims, — “ And  the  times  of 
this  ignorance  God  winked  at ; but  now  commandeth  all  men 
everywhere  to  rei>ent : because  he  hath  appointed  a day,  in 
the  W'hich  he  will  judge  the  -world  in  righteousness  by  that 
man  ■whom  he  hath  ordained ; whereof  he  hath  given  assur- 
ance unto  all  men,  in  that  he  hath  raised  him  from  the  dead.” 

I can  not  trace  the  results  of  this  discourse  dow'n  through 
the  ages.  That  day  “some  mocked,  and  others  said,  ‘We  will 
hear  thee  again  on  this  matter.’  ” Yet  it  was  not  without 
fruit.  Dionysius,  one  of  the  judges  of  the  Areopagus,  “and  a 
woman  named  Damaris,”  believed  in  Christ.  With  these 
there  were  others  ahso  who  -R'ere  saved. 

Two  things  incidentally  connect  with  this  sermon.  First, 

15 


226  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


Paul  was  at  Athens  at  the  choice  of  the  brethren  at  Berea  to 
escape  the  loss  of  his  life  at  the  hands  of  the  wicked  Jews; 
secondly,  he  delays  here  in  expectation  of  the  early  coming 
of  Timotheiis  and  Silas,  in  which  he  was  disappointed.  This 
occasion  and  detention  in  Athens,  though  incidental,  are  em- 
ployed by  him  to  accomplish  the  work  of  God.  It  reminds 
us  of  the  labor  of  Christ  with  the  woman  at  the  well  of  Sa- 
maria while  his  disciples  were  gone  to  buy  bread.  Grand  op- 
portunities are  often  afforded  by  circumstances  which  are  not 
susjiected  as  leading  to  them.  It  was  the  apostle’s  grace  and 
gift  to  embrace  tbem.  The  experience  of  Paul  in  the  idola- 
trous city  was  not  such  as  to  discourage  him ; for  behold,  he 
seeks  and  finds  an  open  door  at  Corinth.  May  his  spirit  be 
on  the  ministers  of  to-day. 

Amid  such  memories  as  these  I turned  away  from  Athens, 
never  to  look  u])on  the  Acropolis  again,  or  again  stand  where 
Paul  stood  on  Mars’  Hill.  The  streets  and  ruined  temples  had 
becimie  familiar  walks.  I sorrowed  to  leave  them.  Such 
anticpiity  and  definiteness  of  location  I had  nowhere  found. 
There  is  something  subduing  and  mighty  in  the  ruins  of 
these  once  splendid  temples  of  idols.  In  them,  “corridors  of 
time  ” cease  to  be  poetry,  for  they  are  the  corridors  and  aisles 
down  which  more  than  twenty-three  hundred  years  have 
walked  in  solemn  and  stately  grandeur.  I thought  I could 
hear  their  spirit-tread.  There  are  idolatrous  memories  which 
are  the  lone  inhabitants  of  these  ruins,  with  which  one  never 
keeps  company  elsewhere.  To  the  top  of  Mars’  Hill  I climbed 
again  and  again,  with  subdued  reverence  to  stand  in  fancy  be- 
side the  great  apostle  and  hear  him  deliver  his  wonderful 
address  to  the  Athenians.  Does -the  reader  wonder  that  I 
found  my  feet  to  linger  a little  ? But  to  these,  all,  to  the 
honey  of  Ilymettus,  to  all  of  Athens  I said  good-by.  Still  I 
seem  to  walk  again  under  the  shadows  of  those  grim  skele- 
tons of  that  civilization  of  Greece  which  has  passed  forever 
from  the  children  of  men. 


CHAPTER  X. 


Leaving  Greece — The  Hellespont — Quarantine  — Sea  of  Marmora  — Mixed 
Multitude  — Dr.  S.  F.  Smith  — An  Incident  — Constantinople  — Loca- 
tion — History  — Sultan’s  Harem  — Stamboul — Burial  Scenes — An- 
cient Wall  — Mohammedan  Superstition  — Dogs. 

on  the  twelfth  of  October  our  company 
was  taken  on  board  the  steamer  at  Piranis,  destined 
for  Constantino})le.  Early  the  next  morning  we  put 
off  to  sea.  All  day  long  our  vessel  crept  around  the 
coast  of  Greece,  amid  many  islands,  which  seem  to  have 
I dropped  down  for  beauty  in  tlie  ^Egean  Sea.  These 
islands,  as  well  as  the  coast-hills  of  Greece,  appear  brown  and 
barren.  The  long  hot  summer  months  cause  vegetation  to 
die,  so  that  in  this  respect  there  is  in  the  autumn  a look  of 
desolation.  Cooler  atmosidiere  and  gentle  rains  of  the  autumn 
bring  these  hills  and  islands  to  life  with  a verdure  which 
continues  all  the  winter  through.  At  eventide  our  vessel 
began  to  strike  out  of  sight  of  the  islands;  and  as  the  night- 
hours  wore  away  it  strode  across  the  ^Egean  Sea,  so  that  with 
the  firing  of  the  cannon  on  the  morning  of  the  fourteenth  our 
eyes  caught  sight  of  the  distant  shores  of  Asia,  where  the  sea 
narrows  down  to  the  Hellespont.  The  scenery  is  delightful. 
The  Hellespont,  called  the  Dardanelles,  was  thick  with  ves- 
sels, boats,  and  steamers.  These  had  lain  at  anchor  for  the 
night,  because  no  vessel  may  pass  this  strait  except  in  day- 
light. Attempting  to  pass  in  the  night,  any  vessel  is  instantly 
fired  upon  by  the  huge  batteries  which  from  either  side  stand 
the  sentinels  of  this  path  of  the  sea.  At  this  point  Leander, 
in  former  times,  and  Lord  Byron  of  later  times,  swam  the 


Ii28  FRAXCK,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AXD  TURKEY. 


Hellespont  from  shore  to  shore.  I should  judge  it  a very 
poor  place  for  the  practice  of  l)eginners.  I ke])!  up  a sharp 
lookout,  but  just  where  the  l)ridge  was  put  across  of  which 
the  student  reads  when  he  studies  “Xenophon's  Anabasis”  I 
could  not  descry.  But  no  matter,  I enjoyed  the  sail  up  the 
“bridge  of  the  Greeks'’  none  the  less,  for  on  the  left  were  the 
sloping  hills  of  Europe  aiid  on  the  right  those  of  Asia,  putting 
on  a robe  of  green.  At  times  the  IIelles})ont  seems  only  a 
mile  wide,  or  l)ut  little  more,  when  soon  its  hanks  recede  so 
that  sheltering  ha}-s  spread  out  their  bosoms  by  its  sides. 
After  a few  hours  thus  hemmed  in  on  either  side  the  shores 
seem  to  retire  little  by  little  until  the}'  are  out  of  sight,  and 
here  and  there  extended  islands  fall  under  view.  Thus  our 
A'essel  was  in  the  Sea  of  Marmora,  through  which  many  a 
lleet  of  war  has  plowed  its  way  in  the  centuries  which  are 
j>ast.  Vessels  are  not  allowed  to  enter  the  Bos2H)rus  after  the 
setting  of  the  sun;  so  at  the  first  fallings  of  the  eventide 
with  the  shores  and  narrow  channel  of  the  Bosporus  full  in 
view,  our  vessel  anchored  at  the  head  of  the  Marmora.  The 
motley  company  of  Greeks  and  Turks,  with  a little  sprinkle 
of  Austrians,  Armenians,  and  ]K‘rhaps  Bulgarians,  which  made 
up  the  steerage  passengers,  afl'orded  amusement  for  any  who 
took  interest  in  the  curiou.s.  Xo  one  could  describe  them. 
Men  in  all  jmssihle  attire  except  ordinary  men's  clothes,  and 
eating  all  the  time  when  not  smoking  or  asleep  or  (pnirreling, 
with  a few  women  all  tied  up  in  their  funny  dresses  so  that 
only  their  eyes  stuck  out,  made  a scene  not  to  he  found  e.xcept 
in  oriental  countries. 

There  were  only  a few  cal)in  passengers.  Among  these  were 
an  elderly  gentleman  and  lady  of  Xewton  Center,  Massachu- 
setts, Rev.  Dr.  S.  F.  Smith  and  lady,  who  were  returning  from 
India.  He  will  he  remembered  by  the  reader  as  the  author  of 
the  precious  missionary  hymn,  “The  morning  light  is  break- 
ing,” and  that  one  national  hymn  we  love,  “ My  country,  ’ tis 
of  thee.”  An  incident  occurred  while  our  vessel  lay  at  anchor 
in  the  Sea  of  Marmora  which  I can  not  help  here  relating.  As 
was  the  custom  of  our  company,  we  had  gathei'ed  in  the  clear 


IXCIDEXT. 


229 


moonlight  upon  the  upper  deck  to  spend  an  hour  in  song  and 
thoughts  of  the  far  away.  One  of  the  company  being  asked 
to  name  the  song,  he  named,  “ My  country,  ’tis  of  tliee.”  And 
amid  the  murmur  of  the  waves  of  the  Sea  of  Marmora  Ave 
sprinkled  the  music  of  that  song  so  dear  to  hearts  thousands 
of  miles  from  their  native  land ; 

“ My  country!  ’tis  of  thee, 

Sweet  land  of  liberty , 

Of  thee  I sing.” 

At  the  close  of  the  song  the  aged  gentleman  and  woman 
seemed  much  delighted,  and  Avith  kindly  grace  .said,  “ We  did 
not  expect  to  hear  you  sing  that  song.” 

SAveeter  to  us  all  than  eA'eu  this  precious  song,  was  another 
almost  divineh'  inspired  A'er.se,  set  in  its  jeAvel  sisters,  as  our 
hearts  Avandered  aAvay  through  melloAv  air  beyond  seas  and 
continents  and  ocean  Avild  to  loA’ed  ones  from  Avhoni  Ave  had 
been  sp])arated  for  long  AA'eary  months.  So  we  sung, — 

*■  T.icre  is  a scene  wliere  spirits  blend, 

Where  friend  holds  fellowship  with  friend. 

Though  sundered  far,  by  faith  Ave  meet 
Around  one  common  mercy-seat.” 

Tt  AA’as  not  until  several  days  later  that  any  one  of  our  com- 
])any  thought  that  the  Mr.  Smith  who  had  been  AV’ith  us  Avas 
the  author  of  the  hymn  the  singing  of  Avhich  seemed  to  fill 
the  old  man’s  heart  Avith  joy.  Had  our  company  knoAvn  Avho 
it  Avas  that  heard  the  singing  they  Avould  have  done  their  best. 
Ea'Cs  fall  on  us  ahvays  of  Avhich  Ave  are  unconscious. 

Constantinople  is  a city  Avith  a marvelous  natural  endoAA'- 
ment,  as  one  might  say,  respecting  location.  Fittingly  enough, 
its  strength  of  location  became  the  charm  of  Constantine’s 
eye  Avheii  he  desired  to  found  an  eastern  capital  for  the  empire 
of  old  Rome.  M'ith  the  Hellespont  and  Sea  of  Marmora  on 
the  south-Ave.st,  connecting  Avith  the  ^Hgean  Sea,  and  the  Bos- 
porus to  the  north-east  connecting  Avith  the  Black  Sea,  Con- 
stantinople .stands  on  the  banks  of  the  Avaters  which  link  the 
great  .seas  together  by  an  easily  defended  chain,  and  at  the 
same  time  is.the  key  to  eastern  Europe  and  Avestern  Asia,  as 


230  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


well  as  to  Russia  on  the  north,  and  the  western  world  entire, 
including  Africa  as  well.  With  Scutari  on  the  eastern  shore, 
— the  Asiatic  side, — Stamboul  south  of  the  Golden  Horn,  and 
Pera  on  the  northern  shore,  we  have  Constantinople;  or  if 
the  reader  will  imagine  a huge  capital  Y it  will  well  represent 
the  sea  here.  The  bottom  of  the  letter  lying  nearly  north 
represents  the  Bosporus  connecting  at  the  end  with  the  Black 
Sea;  the  left  stem  looking  from  the  Black  Sea,  the  Bosporus 
connecting  with  the  Sea  of  Marmora,  and  the  right  and  more 
slender  stem  the  Golden  Horn.  To  the  west  there  is  Pera ; 
east,  Scutari;  and  in  the  forks  of  the  Y is  Stamboul,  the  site 
of  the  old  Byzantine  city.  This  composes  a city  entire  of 
almost  one  million  inhabitants.  This  mass  of  people  is  made 
up  of  every  nationality  in  the.se  ends  of  the  earth.  There  are 
the  Turks,  the  Greeks,  the  French,  the  Armenians,  the  Bul- 
garians, the  Levantines, — a mixture  of  several  people, — the 
Jews,  and  how  many  others  I can  not  tell. 

There  was  the  Byzantine  city  before  Constantine  founded 
in  A.  D.  330  the  city  which  he  wished  to  call  New  Rome,  but 
whose  court  named  it  after  the  emperor  himself.  For  tifteen 
centuries  it  has  been  the  cajiital  of  an  empire.  To  sketch  its 
history  in  mere  outline,  or  to  show  the  character  of  its  peo})le 
from  the  first  through  its  successive  changes,  would  make  a 
volume.  I can  only  glance  at  a few  of  its  jjresent  striking 
characteristics.  It  is  the  home  of  the  sultan,  or  king  of  Tur- 
key, and  the  seat  of  the  Ottoman  power.  Here  we  should  ex- 
pect to  see  the  effects  of  Mohammedanism  in  their  unhindered 
influence.  In  a somewhat  retii'cd  })lace  in  the  northern  part 
of  the  city,  on  the  European  side  of  the  Bosporus,  the  sultan 
keeps  his  harem.  The  recent  murder  of  one  of  his  predeces- 
sors, with  the  assassination  of  other  crowned  heads  of  this 
eastern  world,  has  led  him  to  a life  of  much  greater  retirement 
than  that  led  by  the  former  occupants  of  the  throne.  The 
deposed  sultan,  who  was  some  years  ago  removed  from  the 
throne  on  account  of  insanity,  is  also  now  living  in  a ])alaee 
in  the  same  j)ortion  of  the  city,  and  is  kept  under  the  clostjst 
guard.  It  is  not  thought  that  he  is  now  deranged.  The  hills 


BURIAL  SCENES. 


231 


and  banks  of  the  Bosporus  have  upon  tliem  many  beautiful 
palatial  dwellings,  which  have  been  given  by  the  sultan  to 
his  relatives  and  friends  as  residences.  In  that  part  of  the 
city  called  Stamboul,  between  the  Sea  of  Marmora  and  the 
tJolden  Horn,  there  is  erected  a splendid  niosc^ue  tomb  for  the 
burial-place  of  the  mother  of  the  murdered  sultan.  She  is 
yet  living ; nevertheless,  she  will  go  to  the  tomb  by  and  by. 

Here  1 must  allow  the  reader  to  locjk  at  a funeral  scene,  as  1 
one  day  beheld  it  at  Constantinople.  Our  carriages  were 
driving  outside  the  old  walls  of  Stamboul.  For  several  miles 
we  had  been  passing  along  the  edge  of  one  vast  cemetery, 
crowded  with  grave-stones.  Sometimes  our  way  lay  directly 
through  this  vast  burial-ground — for  be  it  remembered  that 
outside  the  city  everywhere  there  is  one  continued  grave-yard, 
where  millions  lie  in  the  “city  of  the  dead,”  which  has  been 
increasing  its  population  for  more  than  two  thousand  five 
hundred  years.  Coming  upon  a Greek  church  near  which 
a funeral  was  occurring,  and  seeing  a corp.se  carried  out,  I 
stopped  the  driver  and  drew  near  to  witness  the  scene.  It 
,was  the  burial  of  a young  man.  One  prie.st  headed  the  pro- 
cession, and  a number  of  men  accompanied  the  corpse.  The 
lid  of  the  coffin  was  carried  before  by  a young  man.  The 
corpse  was  neatly  dressed,  with  face  uncovered.  The  coffin 
was  set  upon  the  ground  beside  where  the  grave-digger  was 
preparing  a place  for  its  reception.  A stout  fellow  was  dig- 
ging the  grave.  I was  startled  to  see  him  throwing  out  human 
bones  with  the  dirt  as  though  they  were  pebbles.  Soon  he  had 
thrown  out  the  bones  of  an  entire  skeleton,  broken  in  jiieces 
bj"  the  mattock  and  shovel.  A bystander  grimly  piled  the 
larger  pieces  in  a jilace  on  the  dirt  together.  The  coffin-lid 
was  now  and  then  used  to  measure  with,  to  determine  whether 
the  hole  was  large  enough.  There  seemed  to  be  no  more  seri- 
ousness with  all  this  than  if  a rabbit  were  being  skinned.  I 
soon  got  enough  of  it.  From  the  guide  I learned  that  when 
one  of  the  Greeks  dies  he  is  buried  in  the  grave  of  the  last 
deceased  member  of  the  family  if  he  or  she  has  been  dead 
three  years  or  more.  This  accounted  for  the  digging  uj>  of 


232  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY 


the  bones.  Perhaps  four  or  five  years  before,  surely  not  longer, 
a brother  or  father  or  mother  or  sister  had  been  buried  here ; 
and  these  were  the  bones.  If  they  have  not  been  buried  three 
3'ears  a new  grave  must  be  made.  When  the  grave  is  com- 
pleted they  remove  the  clothes  from  the  corpse  and  wrap  it 
in  white  cloth.  The  friends  come  to  the  grave  and  the  priest 
reads  a service,  and  the  grave  is  closed,  the  bones  dug  up  being 
thrown  back  promiscuously.  Five  minutes  later  I witnessed 
another  funeral  procession,  in  which  a woman  Avas  being 
borne  from  the  church,  Avhere  a scu-nion  had  been  preached. 
She  Avas  evidently  a Avoman  of  importance.  A number  of 
boys,  perhaps  tAventy,  Avere  in  front  Avith  shields  of  tin  or  brass 
and  banners  on  stafis.  These  Avere  folloAved  by  half  a dozen 
lAi’iests  and  a bearer  of  the  coffin-lid,  and  men  Avith  lighted 
candles.  After  the  corpse  folloAved  a number  of  men  and 
Avomen.  At  the  grave  the  same  jAroccdure  Avent  on  as  in  the 
scene  l>efore  Avitnessed.  The  clothes  nanoved  from  the  dead 
are  given  to  the  poor.  The  burials  of  the  Armenians  are 
similar  to  those  of  the  Greeks.  The  Turks  do  not  bury  in  a 
former  grave,  but  close  by  one,  and  use  no  coffin  for  the  dead. 
They  believe  that  the  .soul  is  in  torment  from  the  time  of 
death  until  the  body  is  buried;  so  the  funeral  is  performed 
AA’ith  all  ])ossible  speed,  the  l)carers  even  running  Avith  the 
corpse.  No  cemetery  of  the  })eople  is  in  re})air.  Tombs  are 
broken  doAvn.  GraA’c-stones  are  fallen,  and  in  some  cases 
taken  to  build  up  ])retended  fences  aloiAg  the  roadside.  X(*arly 
all  the  graA'e-stones  IniA'e  on  them  the  device  of  tin*  turl)an  as 
AA'orn  by  tbe  deceased.  These  of  course  A’ary  in  kind  and  size, 
according  to  the  rank  of  tlu'  })crson.  The  .dabs  are  always 
smaller  at  the  bottom  than  at  the  top,  and  are  usAially  covered 
with  inscriptions  from  the  Koran  from  one  end  to  the  other. 

In  the  early  history  of  Constantino})le  there  Avas  erected  a 
triple  wall,  embracing  as  it  noA\'  does  the  older  part  of  the 
city.  Its  traces  haA'e  largely  disa})})cared  along  the  southern 
side  of  Stamboul  upon  the  Sea  of  Marmora.  But  at  the 
AA’estern  side  of  the  city,  crossing  the  land  from  Marmora  to 
the  Golden  Horn,  a distance  of  six  mile.s,  it  is  almost  as  per- 


DUGS. 


233 


feet  as  when  erected  fifteen  centuries  ago.  This  triple  line  of 
massive  rainjiarts  is  of  alternate  courses  of  stone  and  brick, 
with  a deep  moat  outside,  which  in  jfiaces  is  entirely  filled  up. 
All  along  the  distance,  as  well  as  along  the  northern  side,  run- 
ning along  the  Golden  Horn,  there  are  giant  old  square  towers, 
at  a distance  of  a hundred  or  more  feet,  rising  up  as  tremen- 
dous guards  of  the  walls  below.  At  the  end  next  to  the  Sea 
of  Marmora  is  a group  of  round  towers  about  two  hundred 
feet  high  and  one  hundred  feet  in  diameter.  These,  with 
their  connecting  walls,  form  an  inclosure  used  as  a prison. 
Here  deposed  sultans  have  often  been  confined ; and  no  less 
than  seven  ci’owned  heads  have  here  been  cut  from  the  body. 
In  times  of  terrible  slaughter,  continued  through  years,  the 
heads  of  the  murdered  have  been  piled  uji  in  one  corner  of 
this  j^rison  until  they  could  be  seen  above  tlie  level  of  the 
wall,  which  must  here  be  seventy- five  feet  high.  These 
walls  everywhere  show  the  marks  of  awful  sieges  they  have 
resisted,  and  have  often  been  repaired.  For  the  last  four  hun- 
dred years  or  more  they  liave  been  left  to  the  lone  touch  of 
time  and  chance;  and  their  indescribable  massiveness  of  pro- 
portions is  heightened  here  and  there  by  the  ivy  which  liov- 
ers  over  them  and  far  uji  to  the  towers,  as  though  to  shield 
them  from  decay.  Some  of  the  gates  of  the  city  are  closed  up. 
One  of  the  best  entrances  has  been  walled  shut  for  centuries, 
on  account  of  the  superstitious  belief  which  prevails  that  the 
Christians  will  at  some  time  effect  an  entrance  through  it  to 
the  capture  of  the  city  from  the  ^lohammedans. 

No  one  who  has  not  visited  Constantinople  can  understand 
what  is  meant  when  it  is  denominated  a “city  of  dogs.”  It  is 
full  of  dogs.  Most  of  them  are  of  a yellowish  or  brindle 
color,  and  from  the  size  of  a fox  upward.  There  are  hundreds 
and  thousands  of  them — one  is  almost  teni{)ted  to  say  mill- 
ions of  them,  so  great  is  their  number.  They  are  everywhere. 
You  hear  their  bark  or  their  yeljt  every  moment.  They  are 
in  the  streets  and  alleys  and  lanes  and  markets  and  on  the 
bridges  over  the  arm  of  the  sea  and  in  the  dej)ot  and  on  tlie 
wharves.  You  can  not  mi.'^s  a dozen  of  tliem.  Litters  of 


234  FRANCE,  irAJ.Y,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


them  lie  under  the  cover  of  almost  every  wall  where  there  is 
safety.  I several  times  counted  thirty,  forty,  and  at  times 
fifty  of  them  within  a radius  of  a few  rods.  They  do  not 
congregate  at  special  2)laces,  fijr  they  liave  their  own  territor}’ 
and  seem  to  keep  it ; and  woe  to  that  one  who  ventures  into 
the  territory  of  his  neighbor  dog,  and  especially  by  night. 
They  are  not  owned  hy  anybody.  They  are  free  as  the  air 
they  breathe,  and  free  as  the  fleas  they  breed.  They  live  on 
what  they  can  get.  In  the  day-time  they  are  quiet  enough, 
and  peaceable,  seldom  giving  disturbance  to  any.  In  the  night 
they  are  self-appointed  sentinels  to  guard  wliere  they  please. 
I^ong  as  music  is  dear  I shall  remember  the  yelp  and  howl  and 
nightly  chase  and  roar  with  which  they  cheered  my  waking 
hours  as  the  night  wore  its  sIoav  dull  shades  away.  Of  another 
place  it  is  said,  “Without  are  dogs,”  hut  at  Constantinople 
thev  are  within.  The  Mohammi'dan  religion  foiTids  that 
anv  one  kill  a dog,  so  they  are  neither  loved  nor  hated.  From 
the  first  I re.^^olved  to  “beware  of  dogs,”  and  thus  kept  the 
vow.  It  took  two  or  three  nights  practicing,  however,  before 
I knew  how  to  sleep  amid  thOr  oft-re}>eated  chases,  bowlings, 
and  veliangs,  as  .scores  followed  each  other  in  hot  pursuit, 
some  brindle  pup  having  no  doubt  trespassed  ui)on  the  terri- 
tory of  his  canine  neighbor. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


Constantino  pie  — Head  - Dress  — Carriers  — Streets  — Houses  — Mosques  — 
St.  Sophia  — Calling  the  Faithful  to  Prayer  — Hours  of  Prayer — In- 
cident— Mohammedan  Worship  — Women  Outside — Bazaars  — Inter- 
preters—Trip  to  the  Black  Sea — The  Bosporus— Bible-House— Robert 
College  — Girls’  Home-School  — Plea  for  Womanhood. 


HERE  is  no  city  on  the  globe  like  Constantinople.  It 
is  in  many  of  its  features  almost  as  oriental  in  type 
as  Damascus,  and  yet  there  is  every  variety  of  race, 
color,  and  life.  The  costumes  worn  are  largely  oriental, 
Y while  the  red  fez  or  skull-cap  is  universally  worn.  It  seems 
■ poorly  adapted  to  the  warm  climate,  though  it  is  re- 
ally handsome.  It  allows  no  ventilation  to  the  head;  and 
many  a hald  head  pays  its  honor  to  the  fez.  Of  course  many 
Avear  the  turl)an,  Avhich  twisted  about  the  head  to  the  size 
of  a pock-measure  is  no  handsome  thing.  Donkeys  are  not 
poAverful  or  numerous  enough  for  the  bearing  of  the  burdens 
to  be  carried  here,  so  men  are  to  be  seen  carrying  almost  every- 
thing on  their  hacks.  Huge  leathern  bottles  are  used  to  carry 
Avater;  and  these  are  carried  on  the  back.  Indeed  they  have  a 
great  carrier's  knot  Avhich  is  put  on  the  back  of  a man,  and  on 
that  everything  is  carried.  On  it  from  tAVO  to  a half  dozen  va- 
lises or  trunks  are  piled,  or  a lot  of  kegs,  or  dr}'  goods,  or  a couple 
dozen  of  chairs,  or  a four-bushel  basket  of  figs  or  grapes,  or  a 
like  quantity  of  melons,  or  a goods  box  three  by  four  feet  in 
size.  Looking  at  these  poor  beasts  of  burden  boAved  down 
under  this  service  till  they  are  hardly  human,  trudging  along 
the  streets  Avith  a sing-song  tone  warning  others  from  their 
way,  burdened  Avith  loads  Avhieh  a horse  could  scarcely  bear,  I 
could  not  but  think  of  the  bondage  of  Israel  in  Egypt  when 


285 


23(3  FBAXCE,  ITALY,  Li  REECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


Phanioh,  as  the  reeonl  again  and  again  states  it,  “Made  them 
to  serve  vith  rigor.”  Tliis  hawking  along  the  streets  and 
lanes,  going  on  day  and  night,  is  very  disagreeable.  Every- 
where yon  can  hear,  no,  you  muxt  hear  from  three  to  twenty 
street-hawkers  calling  out  in  a loud  sing-song  voice  and  ask- 
ing the  ])eople  to  huy  of  them  as  they  trudge  along  with  their 
wan>s.  The  streets  of  the  cit}'  are  called  such  only  because 
tliere  is  no  other  name  for  them.  Properly  .speaking,  Constan- 
tinople has  no  streets.  They  can  only  in  cliarity  or  for  lame- 
ness of  language  he  called  such.  The  hotel  at  which  our 
company  stopped  is  situated  on  the  best  street  in  Constanti- 
nople, and  it  is  only  about  thirty  feet  wide.  Where  there 
are  sidewalks  they  are  not  over  tAVo  or  tliree  feet  Avide,  and 
are  of  no  use.  Tlie  streets  or  lanes  run  anyAvhere  and  CA’cry- 
Avhere  and  anvAvay.  The  houses  seem  to  have  heen  built 
Avherever  it  suited  best,  and  thus  the  streets  Avere  left  to  take 
(tare  of  thcmselA'es.  Many  of  the  houses  are  of  comfortable 
•<ize,  l)ut  are  croAvded  so  thickly  Avitli  inhahitants  that  project- 
ing rooms  and  porches  in  the  higher  stories  almost  touch  each 
other  across  the  streets.  Large  districts  of  tlie  city  look  dilapi- 
tlated,  Avhile  in  the  better  portions  tliere  are  residences  of  com- 
fort and  taste.  As  a Avhole  it  is  probably  tbe  ilirtiest  city  in  the 
Avorld,  and  hut  for  the  j'urifying  jire.^ience  of  the  sea  its  inhab- 
itants AAOuld  perish  from  the  very  tilth  and  .^tench.  The  Avay 
these  old  Avooden  structures  of  houses  are  croAvded  together, 
Avith  only  these  narroAV  lanes  hetAveen,  it  is  a Avonder  the 
Avhole  city  does  not  burn  up  once  or  tAvice  a year.  Yet  I saAV 
no  fires,  though  the  city  has  .sometimes  heen  almost  destroyed 
in  a feAV  hours.  Tt  is  said  that  at  a single  conflagration  not  less 
than  tifty  thousand  houses  Avere  once  consumed  in  a short 
time.  The  only  method  of  controlling  these  outbreaks  is  to 
tear  aAvay  the  houses  from  before  them. 

At  Constantinople,  instead  of  the  church  and  cathedral, 
or  ruins  of  Greek  temples,  my  eye  for  the  first  time  rested 
on  the  Mohammedan  moscjue,  in  Avhich  the  Avorship  of 
Mohammed,  according  to  the  Koran,  is  conducted.  In  Con- 
stantinople the  broad  domes  and  slendm-  minarets  of  the 


MOSQrE  OF  ST.  SOTJUA 


'2oi 

mosque  are  to  be  seen  almost  on  every  sbjpe  and  on  every 
height.  Tlu're  are  sev('ral  liundrc'ds  of  tliese  mosques.  I'^rom 
one  s})ot  1 eount(‘(l  over  eighty  of  tliese  slender  minarets, 
which  are  hollow  towers  with  little  ])orehes  almost  at  tin* 
tiqi,  on  which  Mohammedan  jiriests  stand  and  call  the 
peojde  far  helow  to  jirayi-rs.  This  is  nqieated  live  times  a 
day.  1 visiti'd  a number  of  mosipies,  but  the  most  impor- 
tant is  the  Imperial  St.  Sophia.  It  was  onei'  a splendid 
Christian  tenqile.  Its  history  is  intensely  interesting.  In 
the  year  A.  D.  325,  under  the  dominion  of  Constantine,  and 


the  very  year  the  Council  of  Nice  was  opened,  the  founda- 
tion.s  of  this  tenqde,  dedicated  as  the  Temple  of  Divine 
'Wisdom,  -were  laid.  Thirteen  years  later  it  was  enlarged.  It 
was  hurnt  in  A.  D.  404;  hut  Theodosius  rebuilt  it  in  A.  I). 
415.  lender  the  reign  of  .Tustinian,  A.  D.  532,  it  was  again 
destroyed  by  fire;  but  sixteen  years  later  Justinian  restored 
it  from  its  foundations  with  greater  sidendor  than  ever  before. 
Twenty  years  later  a portion  of  the  dome  fell  in,  but  only  to 
be  restored  in  A.  I).  568.  Its  walls  and  arches  are  built  of 


23S  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


In-ick,  but  the  corridors  are  adorned  Avitli  columns  of  black 
Celtic  marble,  granite,  and  porphyry.  Eight  porphyry  col- 
umns are  from  the  Temple  of  the  Sun  at  Baalbec,  and  four 
green  columns  from  the  Temple  of  Diana  at  Ephesus,  while 
others  are  from  the  temples  at  Troas,  Athens,  and  other  cities. 
In  A.  D.  987  a portion  df  the  dome  again  fell  down,  but  was 
restored ; four  hundred  years  later  the  earthquake  of  A.  D.  1371 
threw  the  cross  from  the  dome.  Of  the  legends  respecting  the 
thousands  of  workmen  emj)loyed  upon  it,  and  the  story  of 
the  marvelous  intervention  in  its  behalf,  I can  not  write.  But 
no  doubt  can  be  entertained  that  for  many  centuries  it  was 
the  scene  of  wonderful  pageants  and  the  center  of  great  inter- 
est, as  its  immense  and  bewildering  proportions  as  well  as 
marvelous  arcbitecture  well  enough  suggest.  Great  and  mi- 
raculous ])ower  was  long  accredited  to  the  crosses  and  utensils 
of  the  Byzantine  Temple  of  Wisdom.  It  is  said  that  at  the 
celebration  of  its  completion  in  A.  D.  548,  on  Christmas,  one 
thousand  oxen,  one  thousand  sheep,  six  hundred  deer,  one 
thousand  pigs,  and  ten  thousand  fowls  were  slaughtered, 
which  with  thirty  thousand  measures  of  corn  were  given  .to 
the  poor  and  consumed.  It  is  almost  square  in  form,  being 
besides  the  vestibules  two  hundred  and  fifty-five  by  three 
hundred  and  fifty  feet.  The  great  central  dome  is  one  hun- 
dred and  seven  feet  in  diameter,  rise  only  forty-six  feet,  one 
hundred  and  eighty  feet  from  the  ground,  and  on  the  east  and 
west  are  semi-domes  of  the  same  diameter  as  the  center.  The 
columns  and  mosaic  adornments  must  have  made  it  at  one 
time  a glory  in  architecture.  Over  four  hundred  years  ago 
(i\Iay  29th,  1453,)  when  Constantinople  was  cai)tured  by  Mo- 
hammed II.  he  rode  into  the  church  in  which  the  clergy  and 
many  of  the  virgins  dedicated  to  God  with  a multitude  of  all 
classes  were  crowded.  When  his  charger  pressed  through  the 
alarmed  fugitives  till  he  stood  before  the  high  altar  Moham- 
med bounded  from  his  horse  and  exclaimed,  “There  is  no  God 
but  God,  and  Mohammed  is  his  prophet ! ” The  images  have 
all  long  been  removed  or  painted  over.  Some  of  these  mosaic 
crosses  and  figures  may  be  seen  through  the  painting  which 


CALLING  THE  FAITHFUL  TO  PRAYER. 


•2r>9 

covers  them,  as  may  also  the  places  aucl  forms  of  the  cross 
effaced  from  the  pillars  and  corridor  railings.  Texts  from  the 
Koran  adorn  the  walls.  The  chandeliers  have  in  all  ten  thou- 
sand lamps.  Some  of  the  Turks  who  followed  us  through  the 
mosque  dug  some  of  the  fine  mosaics  from  the  wall,  and  I 
l)ought  them  for  a trifle. 

As  our  company  Avas  about  entering  the  Mo.s(pie  of  St. 
Sophia,  a loud  call  fell  on  our  ears  from  the  opening  at  the  top 
of  the  tall  minaret  as  the  ]>rie.st  called  the  faithful  to  prayer, 
in  these  words,  “Allahu  akbar,  Allahiv  akbar,  .Allah a ukbar,  Af^h- 
hadu  anna  la  ilaha  ill,  Allah,  va  Muhammaln — rra-'^ul  — Al- 
lah hayya  alas — salla.''  These  sounds  Avere  repeated  OA'er  and 
over  again.  They  Avould  l>e  rendered,  “Allah  is  great : I tes- 
tify that  there  is  no  God  hut  Allah,  and  Mohammed  is  the 
I)rophct  of  Allah;  come  to  prayer.”  This  call  to  prayer  is 
made  five  times  each  day  — soon  after  sunset;  at  night-fall,  or 
an  hour  and  a half  after  sunset;  day-break;  mid-day;  and 
about  an  hour  and  a half  before  sunset.  On  Friday  the  noon- 
day prayers  are  called  earlier  and  a sermon  is  deliA’ered.  Fri- 
day ansAA'ers  in  some  respects  Avith  the  Mohammedans  to  our 
Sabbath,  though  it  is  not  a day  of  rest.  It  is  usually  their 
great  market-day.  But  to  these  calls  to  praA’er  the  faithful 
respond.  In  the  court  of  the  mo.^que  are  small  fountains  and 
troughs  filled  Avith  Avater,  and  at  these  the  deA’out  AA'orshipers 
remoA'ed  their  shoes  and  Avashed  their  feet  and  hands  and 
faces.  This  is  a recjuirenient  of  their  religion.  I noticed  Avith 
curious  anxiety  this  preparation  for  Avorshij).  They  all  en- 
tercal  the  mosque  barefooted,  but  did  not  remoA^e  their  fez. 
By  removing  the  shoes  from  my  feet  and  paying  a franc,  as  did 
all  our  company,  I Avas  allowed  to  enter  the  mo.sque,  being  at- 
tended Avith  a guard  of  soldiers.  After  A'ieAving  the  mosque  we 
ascended  to  Avhat  Avas  formerly  knoAvn  as  the  Avoman's  gallery, 
from  Avhich  Ave  had  a splendid  aTcav  of  this  strange  Avorship 
of  the  Mohammedans.  For  myself  I liaA-e  felt  a greater  sense 
of  personal  security  than  Avhen  Avalking  about  in  this  hoh' 
place.  We  were  constantly  Avatched  Avith  the  closest  atten- 
tion, and  rather  saA-agely  by  one  or  two  old  j)riests.  One  of 


24U  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


thfiii  murmured  something,  which  our  guide  interpreted 
afterward  as  being,  “You  Christians  need  not  tliink  you  can 
come  and  take  our  mosque  away  from  us.”  They  seem  to  fear 
tliat  the  Christians  will  some  time  try  to  take  Constantino- 
ple and  their  mosque  from  them.  Indeed,  it  is  said  they 
live  with  this  constant  'fear.  The  worship  is  such  as  I can 
not  describe.  In  the  end  of  the  mosque  toward  Mecca  the 
altar  is  always  placed ; hut  as  this  teni])le  does  not  face  to- 
ward IMecca,  the  altar  is  placed  in  the  side  south  of  the  nar- 
row apsU.  This  is  necessary,  since  Mecca  is  south-east  and 
the  central  })oint  of  the  semicircle  is  directly  east.  From  this 
j)oint  the  priest  leads  the  prayers.  Of  course,  the  wide  strijrs 
of  matting,  al)out  ten  or  twelve  feet  in  width,  do  not  run  with 
the  S(|uare  of  the  building,  but  are  square  with  the  place  of 
the  altar.  To  the  right  and  left  is  a high  pulpit  or  kind  of 
scaffold  ten  by  fifteen  feet,  and  about  ten  feet  high,  on  which 
were  a dozen  priests, 
who  were  kneeling  and 
bowing,  a n d singing 
their  prayers.  These 
strips  of  yellow -straw 
matting  do  not  touch 
each  other,  but  leave  a 
bare  strip  of  one  foot 
in  width,  on  which  the 
worshipers  set  their 

shoes  when  they  come  mohammedans  at  peater. 

to  worship.  Upon  each  one  of  these  strips  of  matting  was  a 
row  of  men,  side  by  side,  Avith  their  faces  toAvard  the  altar. 
Perhajjs  one  hundred  and  fifty  Avere  at  Avoi’ship  at  one  time. 
Sometimes  at  ])rayer  all  would  stand  up ; then  all  would  fall 
doAvn  suddenly  upon  their  faces,  striking  the  floor  Avith  their 
foreheads.  Then  they  Avould  eleAuite  their  heads  and  remain 
kneeling;  then  stand  up;  and  then  sit  doAvn  flat.  As  this 
Avas  going  on  the  priests  at  the  altar  Avould  call  out,  Allah 
allnh,” — the  great  God, — and  other  sounds,  Avhich  I could  not 
distinguish,  Avhich  were  taken  up  by  the  priests  on  the  eleva- 


MOHAMMEDANS  AT  PRAYER. 


241 


tions.  These  screaming  sounds  were  aj)2nirently  the  signals 
to  which  the  movements  went  on.  Those  who  have  green 
turbans  on  their  heads  are  either  descendants  of  Mohammed 


a number  of  them  in  the  corridors  kneeling  and  going  through 
the  same  form  of  gesture  as  that  which  was  performed  inside. 
The  men  keep  the  women  in  a kind  of  bestial  servitude,  and 
are  displeased  to  see  them  giving  any  attention  to  matters 
of  religion  or  education.  After  the  service  was  over  some 
women  came  in  and  knelt  before  an  altar,  and  seemed  to 
be  receiving  teaching  out  of  the  Koran  from  a priest.  In 
other  mosques  I saw  groups  of  ten  or  a dozen  men  kneeling 
around  a ])ricst,  from  whom  they  seemed  to  be  memorizing, 
or  to  whom  they  were  reciting  the  Koran.  Some  of  these 
mosques  are  places  of  deposit  for  valuables;  and  in  con- 
nection with  a number  are  large  squares,  where  pilgrims  to 
Mecca  or  fugitives  from  other  countries  are  allowed  to  camp 
and  rest.  I saw  a number  of  the  pilgrims  about  some  of 
the  mosques.  From  their  poor,  miserable,  filthy,  lazy  lives 
I should  judge  that  a religion  which  did  not  do  more  for 
them  than  Mohammedanism  docs  is  not  worth  fighting  or 
fleeing  for. 

One  of  the  queer  sights  of  Constantinople  is  its  great  ba- 
zaars, where  Turks  and  Jews,  artisans  and  traders,  prepare 
and  sell  their  goods.  The  great  building  in  which  these  ba- 
zaars are  kept  is  cut  up  into  narrow  streets  and  crowded  stalls, 
for  the  sale  of  goods.  Special  departments  are  devoted  to  the 


l)art  in  this  worship; 
I nor  were  the}"  formerly 
a 1 1 o w e tl  to  enter  the 


or  have  been  on  a j)il- 
grimage  to  Mecca.  This 
worshij)  was  continued 
about  twenty  minutes, 
after  which  they  went 
away  in  groujis.  Women 
are  not  allowed  to  take 


MOHAMMEDANS  AT  EKAYEE. 


. mosque,  althoiigh  I saw 


16 


242  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


different  kind  of  wares.  Along  one  isle,  or  street,  are  stalls  of 
shoes,  then  jewelry,  then  brass,  then  clothes.  All  of  these, 
and  everything  else  you  can  think  of,  with  dogs  and  beggars, 
are  exhibited  to  the  best  possible  advantage.  When  entering 
one  of  these  larger  bazaars  the  keeper  at  once  orders  coffee  — 
a method  of  indicating  friendship  in  that  country.  Men  fol- 
loAV  you  and  try  to  pull  you  to  their  bazaar ; women  follow 
you,  begging  for  backshish.  So  persistently  do  they  torment 
one  that  he  thinks  of  the  importunate  widow,  and  of  the 
sorceress  who  followed  Paul  at  Philippi,  and  of  many  other 
incidents  which  are  not  scriptural.  But  he  does  his  best  to 
get  them  away,  and  .succeeds,  thinking,  “now  they  are  gone,” 
and  takes  a full  breath.  But  alas ! here  are  two  or  three  more 
at  the  elbow,  whining  away  worse  than  ever. 

One  character  Avhich  always  interests  a traveler  here  is  his 
courier  or  guide ; for  be  it  remembered  that  an  American  can 
do  but  little  in  seeing  a city  in  any  of  these  foreign  countries 
without  a guide  who  can  speak  the  various  languages.  Our 
company  had  the  services  of  Mr.  Joseph  Jacobs,  whom  we 
laconicalh’  called  “ Joseph.”  Through  the  crowds  of  Turks 
he  pressed  the  way  here  and  there,  holding  up  his  heavy  cane, 
calling,  “ This  way,  please.”  “This  way,  all.”  “This  way, 
quick.”  Many  were  the  quiet  laughs  afforded  by  his  skillful 
managing  of  those  with  whom  we  had  to  deal.  How  he  got 
our  company  through  the  custom-house  with  a feAV  francs,  and 
a humorous  shove  and  push  and  kick  to  the  officers  wlio 
wanted  more,  was  a specimen  of  practical  joking  seldom  seen. 

One  day  was  devoted  to  a trij)  up  the  Bosporus  to  tlie 
Euxine  or  Black  Sea.  The  scenery  is  delightful.  Nature  has 
piled  up  hills  of  mighty  defense  around  the  mouth  of  tlie 
great  Black  Sea,  the  entrance  to  which  is  scarcely  a mile  Avide. 
The  remains  of  old  towns  and  Avails  are  yet  to  be  seen  on  the 
hills  on  either  side.  On  the  Asiatic  side  toAvers  and  Avails  are 
well  preserved.  These  walls  once  ran  doAvn  to  the  edge  of  the 
sea,  and  great  chains  Avere  stretched  across  the  channel  from 
shore  to  shore  to  keep  the  way  of  the  deep,  so  that  A^es- 
sels  from  the  Bosporus  might  not  enter  the  sea,  and  none 


BIBLE-HOUSE. 


243 


come  from  the  sea  to  Constantinople.  Around  the  shores 
are  a few  little  fishermen’s  huts,  where  slow,  drowsy  Turks 
had  drawn  their  nets  ashore  and  were  at  quiet  rest.  Were 
this  passage  to  the  sea  in  the  hands  of  Europeans  or  Amer- 
icans, it  would  soon  be  one  of  the  most  delightful  spots 
in  the  world.  The  crooked  Bosi^orus,  with  its  rapid  current 
at  places,  and  its  expanding  bays,  was  crowded  with  sail-ves- 
sels, boats,  and  steamers.  1 counted  nearly  one  hundred  at 
one  time,  with  not  less  than  twenty  of  these  queens  of  the 
deep  far  out  in  the  bosom  of  tlie  Euxine. 

Christian  enterprise  in  America,  which  has  sent  out  mis- 
sionaries over  all  seas,  and  its  Bible-agents  in  all  lands,  has 
not  passed  by  Constantinople,  the  seat  of  the  Ottoman  empire. 
This  effort  to  plant  permanently  the  power  of  Bible-truth, 
following  the  laboi’s  of  missionaries  in  the  surrounding  na- 
tions, has  built  here  several  institutions,  the  power  of  which 
is  not  now  to  be  computed.  Among  tliese  is  the  work  of  the 
American  Bible-Society,  with  its  center  at  the  American  Bible- 
House.  The  buildings  are  owned  by  an  incorporated  company 
in  the  United  States,  and  are  commodious  and  well  located, 
and  furnish  a splendid  and  prominent  center  for  this  work. 
It  was  my  privilege  to  visit  the  Bible-House,  and  also  to  meet 
Dr.  Bliss,  agent  of  the  Bible-Society,  and  also  Dr.  Pettybone, 
to  whose  labors  here  with  Dr.  Bliss  and  others  there  is  a 
great  debt  due  for  the  securing  of  this  location  and  the  carry- 
ing forward  of  the  work.  The  Bible-Society  here  sells  the 
Scriptures  in  twenty-three  different  languages,  and  publishes 
Bibles  in  Bulgarian,  Turkish,  Greek,  Armenian,  and  other 
tongues.  In  1881,  sixty-five  thousand  copies  of  the  Script- 
ures were  sold  to  the  people  of  the  surrounding  cities  and 
countries.  The  sales  are  at  such  prices  as  enable  the  laboring 
classes  to  purchase  them.  This  is,  of  course,  at  a loss  to  the 
society,  but  is  much  better  than  gratuitous  distribution,  for 
many  reasons.  A native  Armenian  rents  a portion  of  the 
Bible-House,  and  does  the  entire  work  of  publishing  as  em- 
ployed by  the  Bible-Society.  His  facilities  are  so  adequate 
that  he  also  publishes  a number  of  periodicals  in  different 


2U  FRASCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


languages  for  the  American  Board  of  Missions.  Some  of  these 
papers  have  a circulation  of  six  and  more  thousand.  The 
Monthly  Illustrated  has  a circulation  of  seven  thousand.  Not 
less  than  one  half  million  ])agcs  are  annually  issued  and  sent 
forth  from  this  house.  Of  coiu’se,  most  of  the  Bil)les  sold  from 
the  American  Bible-Society  are  to  Armenians  and  Bulgarians ; 
yet  in  the  last  six  years  twenty  tliousand  cojaes  have  been 
thus  circulated  among  the  Turks.  That  this  seed  of  the  word 
of  God  planted  in  the.se  ends  of  the  earth  should  bring  forth 
fruit  to  the  salvation  of  not  only  men,  but  of  the  nations, 
there  is  great  reason  to  hope. 

Robert  College  is  a monument  of  American  Christian  benef- 
icence and  Christian  toil  performed  by  earnest  and  faithful 
men.  Its  location  on  the  height  of  the  European  side  of  the 
Bos2)oru.s,  above  the  towers  which  defended  the  city  centu- 
ries ago,  is  the  most  splendid  tliat  2)ossihly  could  have  been 
secured.  About  fourteen  years  ago  INIr.  Robert,  of  New  York, 
furnished  the  means  for  the  founding  of  this  institution. 
The  structure,  though  (piite  too  .miall  for  present  needs,  is 
nicely  l)uilt.  It  is  one  hundred  feet  square,  besides  an  addi- 
tional building  in  the  rear.  It  has  about  two  hundred  and 
fifty  students,  one  hundred  and  sixty  of  whom  are  boarders 
in  the  institution.  They  are  Armenians,  Bulgarians,  Greeks, 
and  some  Turks,  with  other  nationalities.  At  eleven  o'clock. 
Sabbath,  October  16th,  we  met  with  the  faculty  and  the  stu- 
dents for  i>ublic  worship  in  the  college-chapel.  Dr.  Fry  of  our 
company  preached  a sermon  of  much  sim})licity  and  ajq)ropri- 
ateness  from  II.  Tim.  i.  12 : “I  know  whom  I have  believed.” 

The  students  gave  close  attention  to  the  Avords  upon  the  doc- 
trine of  personal  Christian  experience  and  assurance.  Thes(‘ 
.students,  though  from  influences  quite  other  than  Protestant, 
are  led  through  the  college  not  only  to  human  knowledge 
but  to  a knoAvledge  of  Christ.  The  institution  has  five  or  six 
professors,  besides  more  than  that  number  of  teachers.  Each 
.Gudent  is  obliged  to  study  the  English  language  and  the  lan- 
guage of  his  country  besides;  and  he  is  urged  to  pursue  the 
full  course  of  study,  Avhich  is  similar  to  that  of  American  col- 


GIR LS ’ HOMK-SCil 0 OL. 


245 


le<?es,  except  that  it  embraces  a number  of  languages  not 
taught  in  our  colleges.  It  is  a remarkable  circumstance  that 
an  institution  of  learning  should  be  so  extensively  patronized 
as  is  lh)bert  College.  There  are  now  a numl)er  of  Mohamme- 
dans in  the  classes.  In  Bulgaria  and  in  Armenia,  as  well  as  in 
other  ])laces,  the  graduates  have  been  promoted  to  the  highest 
posts  of  honor  and  trust  in  govermental  j)ositions.  It  is  not 
easy  to  overestimate  the  intluence  of  this  institution  of  Chris- 
tian learning  upon  the  future  destiny  of  the  countries  lying 
about  it.  There  are  in  these  countries  no  institutions  for 
thorough  education.  Yo\;ng  men  from  these  nationalities 
become  charmed  with  the  ideas  and  outlook  secured  to  them 
in  the  accpiisition  of  the  English  language,  and  Avith  the 
spirit  of  the  professors  under  whose  teaching  they  are  cultured 
in  this  institution.  Many  embrace  Protestant  Christianity; 
many  others,  .Armenians  and  Bulgarians,  receive  the  sj)irit 
and  ideas  of  Protestant  Christianity  Avithout  endAracing  tliem 
under  the  names  Ave  attaeh  to  them.  It  seems  tliat  Robert 
College  is  destined  to  do  much  toAvard  solving  a great  relig- 
ious and  political  })roblem  noAV  pending  in  this  country.  I 
shall  never  forget  my  visit  to  Robert  College.  IIoav  kindly 
and  nobly  Dr.  Pettybone  and  his  estimable  sister  entertained 
us  at  lunch  in  real  home-like,  American  style,  no  one  Avho 
has  never  sat  in  their  home,  so  far  aAvay  from  his  oavu  home, 
can  understand  or  appreciate. 

Scarcely  second  to  Robert  College  in  importance  is  the 
.American  Home-School  for  girls,  located  in  Scutari,  on  the 
Asiatic  .side  of  the  sea.  The  site,  on  the  heights  of  Scutari, 
overlooking  the  Bosporus  and  the  Sea  of  Marmora,  is  very 
desirable  indeed.  The  .school  is  the  product  of  the  Christian 
effort  of  the  W'omen  of  the  Congregational  churches  of  the 
United  States.  The  building  is  neat  and  commodious,  but  has 
])roA'’ed  too  small  for  the  accommodation  of  the  students  Avho 
are  Avilling  to  attend.  Nearlj’  a hundred  students  were  in  at- 
tendance, and  nearly  sixty  boarders  in  the  institution.  It 
is  under  the  care  of  Mrs.  Williams,  Avho  is  assisted  by  other 
American  ladies  and  l)y  teachers  of  French  and  other  Ian- 


246  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


guages.  The  students  are  from  the  different  nationalities  rep- 
resented in  the  college.  Three  Turkish  Mohammedan  girls 
and  one  Dane  were  among  the  attendants.  Girls  twelve  years 
old  and  upward  are  admitted.  The  language  of  the  school  is 
English,  but  the  students  are  also  required  to  study  their 
native  language.  Besides  this  the  course  of  study  is  similar 
to  that  of  an  American  seminary,  the  Bible  being  made  a 
special  and  prominent,  study.  The  American  Board  has  re- 
cently purchased  important  additional  lands,  and  a gentle- 
man from  the  United  States  who  recently  visited  there  and 
saw  the  character  and  necessity  of  the  work  has  given  twenty 
thousand  dollars  to  erect  a new  building.  There  is  no  work 
this  side  of  heaven  more  noble  or  more  to  be  rejoiced  in 
than  that  which  elevates  the  women  of  this  land  of  tlie  ris- 
ing sun.  Among  many  of  these  peoples  woman  is  estimated 
little  more  than  a brute  or  a vegetalde.  The  higher  and  bet- 
ter aji})reciation  of  the  privileges  of  womanhood,  such  as  is 
the  glory  of  the  civilization  of  Christian  lands,  is  unknown. 
A school  which  shall  each  year  have  in  Christian  training 
nearly  one  hundred  Avomen  must  kindle  the  light  of  the  new 
and  better  day  ! Who  should  find  a more  fitting  duty  in  this 
aurora  of  a ncAV  morning  than  the  Avomen  of  American 
churches,  Avho  sit  on  thrones  of  purity,  honor,  and  love  ? 
Would  that  the  American  churches  all  could  rightly  appreci- 
ate the  openings  there  are  for  the  gospel  and  the  Bible  and 
Christian  education  in  the.se  remote  parts  of  the  Avorld.  Then 
Avould  our  missionary  contributions  be  increased  tenfold,  and 
Avhere  a feAV  solitary  teachers  and  missionaries  toil  in  the 
midst  of  loneliness  and  darkness  scores  of  men  and  Avomen 
Avould  side  by  side  hold  up  the  cross  of  Christ  before  men 
and  Avomen  beAvildered  in  the  superstition  and  night  of  hea- 
thenism and  false  religion ! 


CHAPTER  XII. 


Vo3'aging  in  the  Levant  — Oriental  Travelers  — Mohammedans  at  Prayer 
— From  Constantinople  to  Smyrna — Plains  of  Troy  — Paul’s  Vision 
at  Troas — Mitylene  — Smyrna  — Population — Message  from  the  Lord 
— Pol  j'carp. 


||^  VOYAGE  on  the  Mediterranean  is  a novel  event  in 
f.  one’s  life.  A fair  example  was  enjoyed  in  the  jour- 
ney from  Constantinople  to  ancient  Smyrna.  At 
■y  fe-.  Constantinople  our  company  was  loaded  into  row-boats 
and  pulled  through  the  crowd  of  boats  and  waves  out 
where  our  steamer  lay  at  anchor,  and  were  taken  on 
board  in  Turkish  style.  What  a scene  met  our  eyes.  The 
steamer  was  crowded  with  Turks,  and  indeed  men  and  women 
of  all  surrounding  nations.  The  lower  deck  was  jammed 
full  of  Turks  with  their  luggage.  This  latter  article  embraces 
everything.  Cireat  rolls  of  clothing,  bedding,  cooking  utensils, 
provisions,  nargiles,  and  their  oddly-clad  selves  piled  in  to 
the  best  advantage.  The  uifper  deck  had  a great  tent  erected 
on  the  left  side  from  front  to  rear  and  was  packed  full  with 
closely -veiled  Turkish  women,  and  children.  This  quaint 
company  was  piled  in  like  a whole  camp-meeting  packed  into 
one  bed.  Their  queer  caps  and  highly-colored  dresses  and 
striped  and  fancy  beddings,  sometimes  rolled  up  and  some- 
times spread  out,  presented  a motley  scene.  Some  of  the  Turks 
were  mad.  They  had  not  been  allowed  compartments  with 
their  families.  But  on  the  lower  deck  and  in  front  men  and 
women  w'ere  crowded  promiscuously  in  great  numbers.  What 
a jabbering  they  kept  up!  Some  dozed,  some  smoked,  some 
quarreled,  and  every  one  of  the  several  hundred  found  some- 
thing to  do.  Now  and  then  about  a half  dozen  came  to  wor- 

247 


248  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


ship  at  the  call  of  the  priest ! They  spread  down  their  skins 
or  mats,  and,  putting  their  hands  to  their  heads,  knelt  with 
their  foreheads  on  the  floor  toward  Mecca,  thus  bowing  down 
and  rising  up  for  ten  or  fifteen  minutes.  Sometimes  they 
seemed  to  be  muttering  something,  hut  often  muttered  not 
a word.  They  paid  no  attention  to  any  one,  and  nobody 
seemed  to  paj'  any  attention  to  them.  How  I should  really 
like  to  know  what  the  spiritual  state  of  these  devout  per- 
sons is. 

The  distance  from  Constantinople  to  Smyrna  is  three  hun- 
dred miles.  The  vessel  stopped  a short  time  at  Gallipoli,  and 
also  at  Dardanelles, — the  former  on  the  Euroiiean  and  the 
latter  on  the  Asiatic  side.  At  the  latter  place  a large  number 
of  the  Turkish  passengers  quit  the  vessel  amid  hallooing, 
mad  gesturing,  and  fighting.  -Just  as  the  steamer  moved  off 
two  caravans  of  camels  were  seen  coming  into  the  town  from 
the  countiy  beyond.  One  had  about  six  camels  and  the  other 
about  twenty.  Passing  out  of  the  Dardanelles  to  the  left  was 
a delightful  view  of  tlie  Plains  of  Troy,  which  look  low  and 
marshy,  but  stretch  down  to  the  embankments  of  the  sea, 
crowned  with  here  and  there  a mound,  and  spreading  l:)ack  far 
ui“)  to  the  hills  beyond.  Quite  beyond  tho.se  hills,  tvhich' ap- 
peared six  or  eight  miles  from  the  sea  in  the  greatest  distance, 
rises  Mount  Ida,  with  its  crest  covered  with  the  eternal  snow. 
The  New  Troy  is  in  full  view.  Homer's  poems  have  cast  such 
a mythical  glory  over  the  Plains  of  Troy  that  I longed  to  have 
a closer  view.  I should  like  to  have  })itched  our  tent  where 
the  armies  of  Hector  lay,  but  the  boat  went  on  apace.  The 
precise  site  of  ancient  or  Homeric  Troy,  as  every  one  knows, 
is  a matt('r  of  much  dispute.  Dr.  Schliemann,  whose  research 
has  done  much  to  shed  light  upon  this  problem,  holds  it  to  be 
Ilium.  His  excavation  found  ruins  at  the  depth  of  fifty-two 
feet.  He  reached  and  passed  through  four  strata  of  I'ock  rep- 
resenting four  different  cities  built  one  upon  the  other.  He 
holds  Plomeric  Troy  to  embrace  only  the  hill  of  Hissarlik. 

At  the  southern  end  of  the  Plains  of  Troy,  and  opposite 
the  island  of  Tenedos,  is  ancient  Troas,  Avhich  Avas  twice  hon- 


PAUVS  VISION  AT  TROAS. 


249 


ored  by  the  Apostle  Paul  with  his  visits.  Indeed  it  was  here 
that  God  sent  his  messenger  to  the  apostle  by  night-time, 
which  determined  the  future  field  of  toil  for  many  years.  He 
had  come  on  his  second  missionary  tour  to  Mysia  and  was 
purposing  to  go  farther  northward  into  Bithynia ; “ but  the 
Sj)irit  sufiered  them  not,”  so  they  came  down  to  Troas.  “And 
a vision  appeared  to  Paul  in  the  night ; there  stood  a man  of 
Macedonia,  and  prayed  him,  saying.  Come  over  into  Macedo- 
nia and  help  us.”  The  cry  of  this  “ man  of  Macedonia  ” 
which  stood  in  Troas  is  still  the  cry  of  the  j^erishing  millions 
of  men  asking  the  church  to  come  to  their  rescue.  Troas 
marks  a^iew  era  in  the. life  and  labors  of  Paul.  Great  as  he 
was  from  the-4ime  of  his  conversion  at  Dama.scus,  several 
epochs  mark  his  increasing  greatness.  At  Antioch,  he  Avith 
Barnabas  had  been  set  apart  by  the  order  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
to  a peculiar  AA’ork  to  which  God  had  called  them.  From  that 
time  all  Asia  was  Paul’s  field.  But  after  his  vision  here  at 
Troas,  Europe  and  all  the  world  was  his  appointment.  His 
circuit  from  this  time  lay  across  seas,  beyond  islands,  in  dis- 
tant cities,  and  the  remotest  lands.  His  heart  reached  to  the 
centers  of  power,  learning,  idolatry,  and  to  the  ends  of  the 
Avorld.  He  was  ever  longing  to  preach  Christ  also  in  the  “ re- 
gions beyond.”  The  call  of  God  from  Macedonia  had  min- 
gled in  it  the  cry  from  all  nations  of  men.  All  narrowness 
is  .destroyed  and  his  soul  is  boundless. 

Thus  it  was,  immediately  the  company  with  Paul  “ loosing 
from  Troas”  crossed  the  sea  directly  “ Avith  a straight  course 
to  Samothracia,  and  thence  to  Neapolis,”  on  to  Philippi.  After 
his  labors  in  Europe  and  return  to  Antioch,  and  long-contin- 
ued labors  in  Ephesus  and  in  other  places  in  Asia,  and  after 
his  second  A'isit  to  Greece  of  three  months’  continuance,  Paul 
came  again  to  this  same  city  on  his  Avay  to  .Jerusalem,  Avhei'o 
he  longed  to  be  at  the  feast  of  the  passover.  Sopater,  Ari.s- 
tarchus,  Secundus,  Gains,  Timotheus,  Tyehicus,  and  Troph- 
imus came  here  to  Troas  and  AA-aited  for  Paul’s  coming  from 
Philippi.  Tossed  on  the  sea  five  days,  Paul  came  into  Troas, 
and  Avas  greeted  by  these  brethren.  Here  he,  Avith  his  com- 


250  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


pany  of  missionaries,  remained  for  a full  week.  “ And  upon 
the  first  day  of  the  week,  when  the  disciples  came  together 
to  break  bread,  Paul  preached  unto  them,  ready  to  depart  on 
the  morrow  ; and  continued  his  speech  until  midnight.  And 
there  were  many  lights  in  the  upper  chamber,  where  they 
were  gathered  together.  And  there  sat  in  a window  a cer- 
tain young  man  named  Eutychus,  being  fallen  into  a deep 
sleep : and  as  Paul  was  long  preaching,  he  sunk  down  with 
sleep,  and  fell  down  from  the  third  loft,  and  was  taken  up 
dead.  And  Paul  went  down,  and  fell  on  him,  and  embracing 
him  said.  Trouble  not  yourselves;  for  his  life  is  in  him.  When 
he  therefore  was  come  up  again,  and  had  broken  bread,  and 
eaten,  and  talked  a long  while,  even  till  break  of  day,  so  he 
departed.  And  they  brought  the  young  man  alive,  and  were 
not  a little  comforted.”  (Acts  xx.  7-12.) 

With  the  morning  Paul  went  to  Assos  on  foot.  What  mes- 
sage of  good  he  delivered  on  the  way  I know  not.  At  Assos 
he  was  taken  on  board  the  vessel  and  sailed  to  Mitylene. 
Here  he  tarried  for  a time.  And  at  the  same  port  of  Mitylene 
our  vessel  halted  to  put  ofi"  and  take  on  goods  and  passengers. 

Saturday  morning  at  six  o’clock  our  vessel  drew  into  the 
harbor  of  ancient  Smyrna,  where  it  was  to  lie  at  anchor 
during  the  day.  There  is  a delightful  harbor  before  this 
commercial  city ; for  although  Smyrna  was  for  a long  time 
deserted,  it  is  now  a city  of  nearly  two  hundred  thousand 
people,  the  largest  portion  of  whom  are  Turks  and  Greeks.  It 
is  the  market-place  for  the  entire  surrounding  portions  of 
Asia.  Its  houses  are  small  and  only  one  story  in  height,  and 
it  has  few  ruins  of  the  ancient  Smyrna.  Its  exports  of  silks, 
wool,  figs,  raisins,  and  other  products  are  very  great.  In  early 
Christian  times  this  was  the  seat  of  one  of  the  seven  churches 
of  Asia.  It  must  have  received  the  labors  of  some  of  the 
apostles ; and  it  was  to  this  church  that  John  received  a 
special  message,  as  well  as  to  the  other  six,  “ when  he  was  in 
the  isle  that  is  called  Patmos,  for  the  word  of  God,  and  for  the 
testimony  of  Jesus  Christ.” 

As  our  company  was  taken  into  a boat  and  rowed  almost  a 


SMYRXA. 


251 


mile  along  the  wharf  toward  the  place  in  the  city  it  was 
desired  to  reach,  the  sun  rose  in  s2)lendor  above  the  crowded 
streets  and  dwellings,  and  the  domes  and  cupolas  of  Smyrna. 
Our  illustration  presents  a very  fair  birds-eye  view  of  the  bay 
and  the  city,  Avith  the  Acropolis  in  the  back-ground.  The 
reputed  tomb  of  Polycarp  is  situated  a little  way  from  the 
base  of  the  hill,  as  seen  in  our  illustration. 


SMYRNA. 


The  eye  rested  with  strange  interest  upon  the  city  which  was 
once  the  home  of  the  apostolic  church  to  which  the  Alpha 
and  Omega  sent  the  encoui’aging  message  from  the  unseen 
Avorld  by  a “ brother  and  companion  in  tribulation  and  in  the 
kingdom  and  patience  of  Jesus  Christ.”  How  the  divine  One 
yearned  over  it  when  he  said,  “ I knoAV  thy  works,  and  tribu- 
lation, and  poverty,  (but  thou  art  rich)  and  I know  the  blas- 
})hemy  of  them  which  say  they  are  Jews,  and  are  not,  but  are 
the  synagogue  of  Satan.  Fear  none  of  those  things  which 
thou  shalt  suffer : behold,  the  devil  shall  cast  some  of  you  into 
prison,  that  ye  may  be  tried ; and  ye  shall  have  tribulation 
ten  days : be  thou  faithful  unto  death,  and  I will  give  thee  a 
crown  of  life.  He  that  hath  an  ear,  let  him  hear  what  the 
Spirit  saith  unto  the  churches;  He  that  overcometh  shall 
not  be  hurt  of  the  second  death.”  (Revelation  ii.  9-11.)  The 
promise  was  long  ago  fulfilled.  The  faithful  overcame  and 


252  FRAXCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AXD  TURKEY. 


entered  into  life.  But  not  without  Ijeing  cast  into  prison;  for 
against  the  hill,  under  the  shade  of  the  green  Cyprus- trees, 
below  the  ruins  of  the  Acropolis,  is  the  spot  yet  known  as 
the  place  where  the  great  and  holy  Polycarp,  the  bishop  of 
the  church  here,  suffered  martyrdom,  and  was  buried.  It  is 
said  of  him  that  when  at  great  age  being  jiressed  to  recant 
his  faith  in  Jesus  be  exclaimed,  “Eighty  and  six  years  have 
I served  my  Master,  and  he  has  done  me  no  evil ; why 
should  I disown  him  now  ?”  And  confessing  Christ  to.  the 
last,  he  entered  into  the  glory  which  must  be  where  the  mar- 
tyr receives  the  crown  from  his  triumphant  and  loving  Lord ! 

Gazing  upon  the  Cyprus- shades  and  towering  Acropolis 
upon  which  the  sun  sprinkled  a sheen  of  glory,  I saw  beyoiul 
them  a sjilendor  ten  thousand  times  more  brilliant,  in  whicli 
dwells  Polycarp  and  the  faithful  of  ancient  Smyrna,  who  all 
now  live  with  Him  who  is  “ the  first  and  the  last ; who  Avas 
dead  and  is  alive ! ” 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


Kphesus  — Distance  from  Smyrna  — Passing  Scenes  — Flocks  — Caravans 
of  Camels — Tents  of  Kedar  — Site  of  Ephesus  — A City  of  Ruins — 
History  of  Ephesus  — Temple  of  Diana  — Eight  Temples  in  Ruins  — 
Paul  at  Ephesus — Apollos  — Aquila  and  Priscilla  — Beasts  at  Ephesus 
— In  the  Theater — Address  to  tlie  Elders  of  the  Ej^hesian  Church  — 
Epistle  to  the  Ephesians  — Home  of  John  — Timothy  — Ruins. 


HERE  is,  jjerhaps,  no  place  outside  of  Palestine  to 
which  the  Christian  heart  turns  with  a tenderer  in- 
terest than  to  Ephesus.  Xo  city  received  so  large  a 
'share  of  apostolic  labors,  and  in  none  was  the  power  of 
G(?d  more  manifest,  or  the  oppo.*?ition  of  men  more  fierce 
and  turl)ulent.  Learning  fhat  our  vessel  would  remain 
in  port  at  Smyrna  nearly  all  of  the  day,  October  22d,  our  com- 
pany chartered  a special  train  for  Ephesus.  The  site  of  an- 
cient Ei)hesus  is  distant  from  Smyrna  forty -eight  miles,  and 
was  reached  in  an  hour  and  thirty-five  minutes.  The  cars 
are  of  English  construction  and  very  comfortable.  The  en- 
tire route  is  one  hundred  and  five  miles  long,  and  is  called  the 
Smyrna  and  Aidin  Railway.  The  special  train  cost  one  hun- 
dred dollars. 

Leaving  Smyrna  we  pass  between  sharp  volcanic  hills  cov- 
ered with  craggy  stones  and  heaps  of  sharp  rocks,  and  pass 
almost  around  the  hill  on  which  stand  the  ruins  of  the  Acrop- 
olis. This  lofty  hill  is  covered  with  ruins  from  one  end  to 
the  other.  Passing  out  between  residences  on  either  side, 
my  eyes  were  greeted  with  caravans  of  camels  which  slowly 
climb  and  descend  the  narrow  road  about  the  adjacent  hills. 
A man  rides  in  front  on  a donkey,  or  walks  leading  him, 
while  the  camels,  heavily  loaded,  follow  at  a distance  of  twelve 
or  fifteen  feet,  one  behind  the  other,  each  one  attached  to  the 

253 


254  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE.  AND  TURKEY. 


one  before  by  a rope.  Farther  on  Ave  enter  a broad  plain 
several  miles  wide,  in  which  are  orchards  of  fig-trees  and 
fields  of  grapes.  This  must  be  six  or  eight  miles  wide,  and 
continues  a distance  of  twenty -five  miles.  Far  away  on 
either  side  of  the  plain  rise  sharp  craggy  mountains  in  perfect 
barrenness  of  trees  or  grapes  or  shrubs.  But  in  the  valley 
is  field  after  field  of  grapes  which  are  planted  closely  as  corn 
in  America  and  trimmed  down  to  near  the  size  of  tomato- 
vines,  and  have  no  trellaces  upon  which  to  climb.  But  oh, 
the  camels ! There  was  caravan  after  caravan.  • Some  had  as 
many  as  twenty-two  in  a row,  all  heavily  loaded ! "What  a 
peculiar  scene ! Xow  and  then  there  were  great  companies  of 
them  lying  down  resting.  AVhat  gentle,  obedient,  ugly-look- 
ing  creatures  they  are ! It  is  an  oriehtal  scene.  And  as  the 
eye  caught  a view  of  the  great  flocks  of  sheej)  which  were  be- 
ing watched  by  shepherds  who  were  sitting  down  eating,  I re- 
membered the  scene  described  in  Genesis  xxxvii.  25,  “And  they 
sat  down  to  eat  bread : and  they  lifted  up  their  eyes  and 
looked,  and,  behold,  a company  of  Ishmaelitcs  came  from  Gil- 
ead, Avith  their  camels  bearing  spicery  and  balm  and  myrrh, 
going  to  carry  it  doAvn  to  Egypt.”  The  caravans  Avere  from 
far  out  in  the  country  and  loaded  Avith  all  manner  of  produce. 
There  were  thousands  of  sheep,  most  of  them  Avhite,  ljut  hun- 
dreds also  black.  But  what  are  those  strange-looking  things, 
like  tents  ? Perhaps  they  are  shelters  for  sheep  ? If  the}^ 
are  tents  I should  expect  them  to  be  Avhitc.  But  Ave  read  in 
the  songs  of  Solomon,  of  his  being  black  “ as  the  tents  of  Ke- 
dar.”  (Song  of  Solomon,  i.  5.)  So  these  are  the  “ tents  of 
Kedar;”  and  they  are  black,  to  be  sure.  Hoav  carefully  those 
shepherds  Avatch  their  flocks,  Avith  long  crooks  in  their  hands. 
Jesus  said,  “I  am  the  good  Shejdierd.”  There  is  just  one 
thing  Avhich  reminds  me  of  what  I haA'c  hundreds  of  times 
seen  in  America.  There  Avere  no  dogs  Avith  any  of  these 
shepherds,  and  all  of  them  had  them,  Avhich  did  not  run 
after  our  train  in  fury,  barking  and  running  as  though  they 
could  stop  it.  A dog  is  a dog  all  the  Avorld  over,  except  in 
Constantinople,  — there  he  is  a thousand!  A fcAV  of  the 


HISTORY  OF  EPHESUS. 


255 


smaller  camels  passed  a little  joke  at  our  train  and  jumped 
up  and  down,  Avliile  the  driver  leaped  up  and  down  halloo- 
ing and  gesticulating  in  the  wildest  manner.  After  passing 
over  a plain  somewhat  washed  by  a stream  of  water  which 
must  at  times  spread  over  the  entire  valley,  the  j^lain  gradu- 
ally narrows  hy  the  approach  of  the  mountains  on  either 
side;  and  in  this  narrow  rocky  vale  our  train  stopped,  and 
we  were  at  Avassalouk,  the  depot-town  for  Ephesus.  There 
is  a town  some  eight  or  ten  miles  distant  called  Ephesus, 
but  here  it  can  hardly  he  said  there  is  a town.  A few  poor 
houses,  a hotel,  and  a railroad  station-house  comprise  the 
2)lace.  These,  of  course,  do  not  occuj^y  the  site  of  ancient 
E^jhesus,  which  is  more  than  a mile  to  the  right,  and  is 
reached  hy  crossing  a considerable  23hiin. 

One  end  of  the  ancient  city,  that  2^art  in  which  stood  the 
Teni2)le  of  Diana,  is  nearest  to  the  railway  station,  the  north- 
ern extremity  of  the  city.  E2ihesus  is  a va.st  extent  of  ruins. 
I saw  nothing  to  com2aire  Avith  it.  In  Athens  and  at  Rome 
there  are  ruins  of  teiu2des  better  2)reserved  and  showing  more 
fully  the  grandeur  and  S2)lendor  of  the  23^st.  Ephesus  was 
robbed  of  its  columns,  and  its  treasures  of  antiquity  were 
carried  away  to  enrich  other  cities  after  it  had  gone  into  decay. 
Besides  this,  the  excavations  have  not  been  made  here  Avhich 
are  necessary  to  show  Avhat  really  lies  buried  beneath  these 
lields  and  hills  of  ruins.  But  here  is  a Avhole  vast  city  of  ruins. 
I Avalked  hastily  for  two  hours  amid  the  foundations  and 
broken  columns  and  2Jartially  uncovered  splendors  of  Ephesus, 
Avhile  on  every  side,  on  lulls  above,  to  right  and  left,  and  far  off 
before  me,  were  still  greater  ruins,  Avhich  I could  not  ex23lore. 
It  is  a Avilderness  of  ruins  everyAvhere  one  looks.  Ephesus 
Avas  a 2)rominent  and  2Jroud  city  hundreds  of  years  before  the 
Christian  era.  Historians  say  that  Avhile  not  the  largest,  it 
Avas  the  grandest  city  in  the  Avorld.  That  which  is  yet  to  be 
seen  here  induces  me  to  believe  that  in  real  magnificence  the 
world  has  never  seen  its  equal.  It  had  a grand  site.  Its  one 
end  stretched  through  the  pass  and  over  the  hill  to  where  its 
great  holy  Avay  ran  from  the  Magnesian  gate  to  the  Temple  of 


256  FRAXCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 

Diana,  along  a plain  set  around  in  the  distance  by  defensive 
mountains.  On  the  other  side  of  the  way  were  the  gorgeous 
temples  and  monumental  tombs.  A number  of  these  sar- 
cophagi are  now  partially  uncovered  by  excavations,  showing 
the  exact  course  of  the  highway,  along  which  the  worshipers 
passed  to  the  Temple  of  Diana. 


TEMPLE  OF  DIANA. 

The  Temple  of  Diana  was  one  of  the  seven  wonders  of  the 
Avorld.  For  ages  its  site  was  entirely  unknown.  In  A.  D.  1867 
it  Avas  discoA’ered  and  excavated  by  Mr.  T.  J.  Wood  of  En- 
gland, Avho  Avas  employed  by  the  British  Museum.  It  Avas 
larger  than  the  Parthenon  at  Athens,  or  the  Temple  of  the 
Sun  at  Baalbec,  being  tAvo  hundred  and  thirty-nine  feet  and 
four  and  a half  inches,  liy  four  hundred  and  eighteen  feet 
and  one  inch.  These  measurements  are  from  Captain  Wood. 
It  had  one  hundred  sculptured  columns  fifty -six  feet  high. 
It  was  destroved  by  fire  seven  times;  and  the  ruins  remain- 


RUJXS  OF  EPHESUS. 


2bl 


ing  are  those  of  the  eighth  temple,  and  the  grandest  of  all. 
The  sixth  temple  on  this  site,  begun  six  hundred  years  before 
Christ,  we  are  told  by  Eusebius,  was  destroyed  by  fire  the 
same  day  Socrates  took  poison.  The  seventh  was  burned  by 
Herostratus  to  ])erpetuate  his  fame,  on  the  same  night  Alex- 
ander the  Great  was  born,  B.  C.  356.  This  emperor  assisted 
in  its  rebuilding  in  great  si)lendor,  and  even  had  his  portrait 
taken  to  be  placed  within  its  shrines.  Who  that  climbs  over 
its  ruins  can  call  Diana  great,  only  as  a ghost  of  the  long-gone 
past ! 

The  goddess  Diana,  the  Artemis  of  the  Greeks,  was  the 
<laughter  of  Jupiter,  and  her  image,  reported  to  have  fallen 
down  from  that  god,  was  the  glory  of  the  temple.  (Acts  xix. 
35.)  What  this  image  was  composed  of  is  not  known.  It  has 
usually  been  held  to  have  been  of  ebony.  Pliny  quotes  au- 
thorities to  show  that  it  was  the  wood  of  the  vine,  while 
Xenophon  claims  it  to  have  been  of  gold. 

At  the  north-western  end  of  the  city  was  the  sea  coming  up 
to  its  very  edge,  bounded  l^y  a magnificent  quay.  Long  since 
the  sea  has  receded  several  miles,  and  where  once  was  afforded 
a place  for  the  landing  of  vessels,  there  is  now  a great  plain. 
The  quay  is  yet  to  be  seen,  as  is  also  the  great  rock  building 
close  by.  A few  Turks  now  inhabit  the  ruins  of  this  once 
splendid  structure,  which  was  a kind  of  custom-house.  In 
ancient  times  Ephesus  was  honored  and  despised  alternately, 
both  by  God  and  man.  Alexander  the  Great  honored  it  and 
built  its  wastes,  while  Constantine  destroyed  it.  The  ministry 
of  the  gospel  shone  on  Ephesus  in  its  divinest  form;  and  its 
walls  and  temples  were  thrown  to  the  ground  by  fearful  earth- 
quakes which  heaved  beneath  it  and  the  surrounding  mount- 
ains and  sea,  again  and  again,  as  the  centuries  went  by. 
Jehovah  cau.sed  the  fullness  of  noonday  to  rise  upon  it  and 
then  removed  the  candlestick  out  of  its  place.  Xow  shep- 
herds drive  their  flocks  over  Ephesus,  and  owls  sit  on  the 
ruins  of  its  temples  at  noonday,  and  the  stork  builds  her 
nest  on  its  high  places!  Yet,  what  a history  lies  buried  in 
these  streets  and  temples  and  dwellings!  What  memories 

17 


258  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


climb  over  these  desolated  walls  and  sit  on  these  ruin-crowned 
hills ! Did  the  eyes  of  the  apostle  from  his  throne  of  light 
look  on  me  as  I trod  around  this  decay  of  ages?  I walked 
reverently.  I was  wont  to  linger  alone  with  the  memories 
of  Ephesus.  There  is  something  there  which  took  strange 
hold  of  my  heart ! 

In  the  old  theater  I found  myself  deeply  absorbed  in  medi- 
tation; and  withal,  I longed  to  remain  awhile.  The  guide 
clambered  over  the  ruins  with  great  speed.  I thought  he  was 
anxious  to  get  us  back  to  the  village  to  sell  us  a dinner.  1 
determined  to  let  him  go,  and  make  the  best  of  it  I could 
alone,  as  the  comi)any  was  inclined  to  keep  up  with  him.  As 
I lingered  in  the  theater,  all  at  once  I awoke  to  the  conscious- 
ness that  1 was  alone  amid  the  desolate  ness  of  Ephesus.  1 
fancied  that  I was  standing  where  the  townelerk  stood  when 
he  “appeased  the  people;”  and  amid  these  marble  columns 
and  in  this  vast  amphitheater  I was  alone,  toying  with  sindi 
faneies  as  my  brain  could  control.  Suddenly  I saw  a stout 
Arab  approaching  by  the  path  which  led  near  the  theater.  In 
his  right  hand  he  held  a great  knife,  which  he  brandished  in 
the  air,  as  if  to  inform  me  that  he  was  ready  for  any  fate.  I 
had  a stout  green  cane,  which  a half  hour  before  I had  cut  in 
the  streets  of  Ephesus.  I took  a strong  grip  on  the  club  and 
marched  out  to  meet  him.  As  I approached  him  he  Hourished 
his  huge  knife  about  furiously.  1 raised  my  hat  gentlemanly 
with  one  hand  while  I held  fast  to  the  club  with  the  other, 
and  passed  him  in  safety.  To  this  day  I am  anxious  to  know 
whether  or  not  I scared  the  Turk.  For  myself,  I hastened  on 
to  examine  the  ruins  of  the  Church  of  St.  John,  and  the 
great  stone  basin, — sixteen  feet  in  diameter, — and  the  Sta- 
dium, and  the  Temple  of  Diana. 

The  great  apostle  of  the  gentiles  “ himself  entered  into  the 
synagogue  and  reasoned  with  the  Jews  ” as  he  returned 
from  his  second  missionary  tour.  Though  he  was  desired  to 
remain  much  longer  he  bid  them  farewell,  saying,  “ I must 
by  all  means  keep  this  feast  that  cometh  in  Jerusalem,  but  I 
will  return  to  you  if  God  will.”  Here  Apollos  of  Alexandria, 


PAUL  AT  EPHESUS. 


259 


“ an  eloquent  man,  and  mighty  iii  the  Scriptures,  taught  dili- 
gently the  things  of  the  Lord,  knowing  oidy  the  l)aptism  of 
John.”  (Acts  xviii.  25.)  It  Avas  here  that  tliis  silver-tongued 
messenger  of  the  gospel  received  from  A<iuila  and  Priscilla 
that  truth  Avhich  opened  to  him  “ the  way  of  God  more  per- 
fectly.” Paul  did  not  forget  his  promi.se  to  return,  for  soon 
Ave  find  him  coming  again  to  Eijhesus  to  perfect  the  Avork 
Avhich  had  been  so  Avell  begun.  As  he  laid  his  hands  on 
those  Avho  had  been  baptized  to  John’s  baptism,  tlie  Holy 
Ghost  fell  upon  them.  Here  for  three  montlis  he  taught  the 
JeAvs  in  the  synagogue,  “disputing  and  persuading  the  things 
concerning  the  kingdom  of  God."  (Acts  xix.  8.) 

I climbed  over  the  ruins  of  the  gymnasium,  in  Avhich  Avas 
probably  the  “ school  of  one  Tyraniius,”  Avhere  Paul  contin- 
ued to  preach  after  being  turned  from  the  SA’uagogue,  until 
“all  they  Avhich  dAvelt  in  Asia  heard  the  Avord  of  the  Lord 
Jesus,  both  JeAVS  and  Greeks.”  There  Avas  a great  revival 
here  in  those  days.  Handkerchiefs  and  aprons  taken  from 
Paul’s  body  to  the  sick,  or  those  possessed  of  devils,  caused 
the  sick  to  be  healed,  “ and  the  evil  spirits  Avent  out  of  them,” 
because  “ God  Avrought  special  miracles  by  the  hands  of  Paul.” 
Vagabond  exorcists,  seven  men,  tried  to  cast  out  evil  spir- 
its. But  the  devils  cried  out,  “Jesus  I knoAV,  and  Paul 
1 knoAAq  but  who  are  you  ? ” “ And  this  Avas  knoAvn  to  all 

the  JeAA'S  and  Greeks  also  dAvelling  at  Ephesus;  and  fear  fell 
on  them  all,  and  the  name  of  the  Lord  Je.sus  Avas  magni- 
fied. And  many  that  believed  came,  and  confessed,  and 
sheAved  their  deeds.  Many  of  them  also  AAdiich  used  curious 
arts  brought  their  books  together,  and  burned  them  before  all 
men : and  they  counted  the  price  of  them,  and  found  it  fifty 
thousand  pieces  of  sil\"er.  So  mightily  greAV  the  Avord  of  God 
and  prevailed.”  (Acts  xix.  17-20.) 

There  Avas  a great  stir  in  Ephesus,  noAV  so  long  silent.  De- 
metrius, Avho  made  shrines  for  the  goddess  Diana,  called  the 
craftsmen  together  and  declared  that  their  living  Avas  likely 
to  be  taken  aAvay,  for  the  people  Avould  follow  Christ,  and. buy 
no  more  images.  The  silversmiths  Avere  enraged.  They  cried, 


260  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY 


“Great  is  Diana  of  the  Ephesians.’’  The  city  was  filled  with 
confusion.  Men  ran  along  the  streets  like  madmen.  They 
arrested  Gains  and  Aristarchus,  companions  of  Paul,  and 
rushed  into  the  great  theater  at  the  end  of  the  city.  It  is 
well  preserved,  and  would  seat  sixty  thousand  people.  There 
was  a great  mob.  “ Some  therefore  cried  one  thing,  and  some 
another.”  Paul  wanted  to  go  in  and  make  a defense.  The 
brethren  would  not  perinit  him.  The  mol)  went  on.  1 climbed 
through  the  theater,  and  could  easily  fancy  the  crying  of 
the  mob  which  “all  with  one  voice  about  the  space  of  two 
hours  cried  out,  Great  is  Diana  of  tlie  Ephesians."  After  the 


ANCIENT  THEATEH  AT  EPHESUS. 


uproar  had  been  appeased  by  the  town-clerk  “ Paul  called 
unto  him  the  disciples,  and  embraced  them,  and  departed.’’ 
What  conflicts  were  then  here,  which  I have  so  hastily 
sketched.  Tlie  great  ai)ostle  in  writing  to  the  church  at 
Corinth  shows  that  he  had  not  forgotten  how  he  had  “ fought 
with  beasts  at  Ephesus.”  P>ut  he  expected  a resurrection  from 
the  dead  and  a reward  by  and  by.  As  Paul  Avas  returning 
from  his  tliird  missionary  tour  he  came  to  Miletus.  He  could 
not  forget  the  church  here  at  Ephesus.  Pressed  for  time,  he 
could  not  visit  the  scene  of  his  labors,  so  he  sent  for  the  elders 


PAUL'S  ADDRESS  TO  THE  EPHESIAXS.  261 


of  the  Ephesian  clumh  to  come  to  him  at  Miletus.  Ilis 
address  is  the  most  splendid  i)astoral  utterance  ever  delivered 
to  a church.  It  so  veil  explains  the  history  of  his  toil  here 
in  this  city  now  so  desolate,  that  I turn  to  this  touching  dis- 
course : 

“Ye  know,  from  the  first  day  that  I came  into  Asia,  after  wliat  manner 
I have  been  with  you  at  all  seasons,  serving  the  Lord  with  all  humility  of 
mind,  and  with  many  tears,  and  temptations,  which  befell  me  by  the 
lying  in  wait  of  the  Jews:  and  how  I kept  back  nothing  that  was  profit- 
able unto  you,  but  have  shewed  you,  and  have  taught  j’ou  publicly,  and 
from  house  to  house,  testifying  both  to  the  Jews,  and  also  to  the  G-reeks, 
repentance  toward  God,  and  faith  toward  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  And 
now,  behold,  I go  bound  in  the  .spirit  unto  Jerusalem,  not  knowing  the 
things  that  shall  befall  me  there:  save  that  the  Holy  Ghost  witnesseth  in 
every  cit3%  savdng  that  bonds  and  afflictions  abide  me.  But  none  of  these 
things  move  me,  neither  count  I iny  life  dear  unto  myself,  so  that  I might 
finish  mj’  course  with  joy,  and  the  ministiw,  which  I have  received  of  the 
Lord  Jesus,  to  testify  the  gospel  of  the  grace  of  God.  And  now,  behold, 
I know  that  ye  all,  among  whom  I have  gone  preaching  the  kingdom  of 
God,  shall  see  m.v  face  no  more.  Wherefore  I take  j'ou  to  record  this  day, 
that  I am  pure  from  the  blood  of  all  men.  Fori  have  not  shunned  to  de- 
clare unto  you  all  the  counsel  of  God. 

“Take  heed  therefore  unto  yourselves,  and  to  all  the  flock,  over  the 
which  the  Holy  Ghost  hath  made  you  overseers,  to  feed  the  church  of 
God,  which  he  hath  purchased  with  his  own  blood.  For  I know  this,  that 
after  my  departing  shall  grievous  wolves  enter  in  among  j^ou,  not  sparing 
the  flock.  Also  of  your  own  selves  shall  men  arise,  speaking  perverse 
things,  to  draw  away  disciples  after  them.  Therefore  watch,  and  remem- 
ber, that  by  the  space  of  three  years  I ceased  not  to  warn  every  one  night 
and  day  with  tears.  And  now,  brethren,  I commend  yon  to  God,  and  to 
the  word  of  his  grace,  which  is  able  to  build  you  up,  and  to  give  3'ou  an 
inheritance  among  all  them  which  are  sanctified.  I have  coveted  no  man’s 
silver,  or  gold,  or  apparel.  Yea,  3'e  yourselves  know,  that  these  hands 
have  ministered  unto  my  necessities,  and  to  them  that  were  with  me.  I 
have  shewed  you  all  things,  how  that  so  laboring  ye  ought  to  support 
the  weak,  and  to  remember  the  words  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  how  he  said,  It 
is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive.” 

After  this  they  knelt  down  and  prayed.  “ And  they  all 
wept  sore,  and  fell  on  Paul's  neck,  and  kissed  him,  sorrowing 
most  of  all  for  the  tvords  which  he  spoke,  that  they  should  see 
his  face  no  more.” 

Thus  dear  was  Ephesus  to  the  apostle.  Afterward  when  he 


262  FRANCE,  ITATA\  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


was  a prisoner  at  Rome,  he  wrote  his  first  epistle  to  the 
church  here.  It  is  indeed  a wonderful  letter,  and  is  recognizetl 
as  one  of  his  greatest  epistles.  Here,  too,  Timothy  Avas  bishop 
of  the  church  for  a long  season. 

In  this  city  through  Avhose  crumbled  ruins  I Avandered,  tst. 
John,  the  onH  one  of  the  tAA’eh’e  apostles  aaJio  escaped  mar- 
tyrdom, it  is  belicA'ed  died  in  peace,  honored  by  the  lo\'e  of 
the  “children'’  he  so  dearly  and  tenderly  loved  for  Christ's 
sake.  lie- Avas  the  beloved  disciple,  and  here  he  tariled  long 
by  the  Avill  of  the  Master.  The  place  is  pointed  out  where  he 
..deeps  Avho  was  early  at  the  tomb  of  his  crucified  Christ,  and 
who  Avas  often  Avont  to  lean  on  the  bosom  of  Jesus.  I visited 
thb  spot  Avhere  it  is  asserted  his  body  Avas  buried.  I can  not 
tell  how  this  is,  but  his  head  leans  on  the  bosom  of  .lesus  OA’er 
in  the  -jity  Avhich  falls  into  ruins  never,  but  becomes  grander 
as  the  treasures  of  eternity  are  continually  gathering  into  it. 
SomeAvhere  here  amid  these  Avrecks  of  time  is  the  dust  of 
Timothy,  and  may  be  the  mother  of  Christ,  Avhose  home  Avas 
Avith  John,  but  I could  not  find  them  ! When  “he  that  hold- 
eth  the  seven  stars  in  his  right  hand”  ap2)eared  to  the  solitary 
apostle  on  Patinos,  he  ordered  the  first  address  to  be  sent  to 
the  church  at  Ephesus.  The  reader  Avill  find  it  in  the  opening 
of  the  second  chapter  of  Revelation. 

Ephesus  spreads  out  its  doleful,  desolate,  and  forsaken  ruins. 
Mount  Prion,  once  croAvned  as  the  center  of  supreme  earthly 
grandeur,  sits  solitary  in  its  desolation  and  mourning.  Old 
corridors  and  marl  Jed  streets  Avail  at  the  passer-by.  Crum- 
bling Avails  and  sarcophagi  Avhose  dead  have  vanished  in  dust 
thousands  of  years  ago,  look  Avofully  on  the  pilgrim  who  has 
come  from  afar!  Alas,  alas!  for  the  glory  of  Ephesus!  For 
ages  she  has  been  in  sackcloth,  and  none  comes  to  lift  up  the 
veil  of  her  mourning!  And  yet  amid  her  Avastes  I seemed  to 
have  touched  a spirit  divine.  There  is  that  Avhich  perishes 
not  at  Ephesus  1 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


Distances  in  the  Great  Sea  — Chios  — Samos  — Patmos — Vision  of  the 
Revelator  — The  Echo  of  Patmos — Coos — Rhodes — Cyprus — Limer- 
sol  — Larnica  — Salamis  — Paul  and  Barnabas  on  Cyprus— Witnesses. 

HE  Mediterranean  is  indeed  a “great  sea.”  Distances 
between  places  are  much  greater  than  I had  conceived 
^ tliem  to  he.  We  are  accustomed  to  lose  sight  of  the 

drudgery  and  toil  and  weariness  of  travel  which  must 
Y have  made  up  a large  portion  of  the  lives  of  the  apostles, 
with  whom  these  regions  stand  associated.  Our  vessel 
was  almost  a week  going  from  Constantinople  to  Palestine. 
Rut  how  vast  were  these  distances  to  Paul,  who,  with  imper- 
fect means  of  navigation,  hastened  with  anxiety  from  Greece 
to  Jerusalem  wdth  a heart  full  of  longing  to  keep  the  great 
feast  there.  (Acts  xx.  16.) 

By  six  o’clock  on  Saturday  evening,  October  22d,  our  ship 
drove  out  of  the  splendid  harbor  at  Smyrna  and  was  off  at 
sea.  One  can  not  enter  such  a voyage  without  some  trepida- 
tion. Sometimes  a pleasant  passage  is  made  over  the  Mediter- 
ranean. From  Rhodes  to  Cyprus,  however,  there  is  usually  a 
rolling  sea  sufficient  to  give  the  passenger  a good  “tossing  up.” 
About  three  o’clock  on  Sabbath  morning  our  vessel  stopped 
at  Chios.  (See  Acts  xx.  15.)  This  island  is  about  thirty-two 
miles  long.  It  has  had  an  illustrious  history,  and  has  always 
been  noted  for  its  wines,  figs,  and  silks.  For  a long  time  it 
witnessed  great  battles  with  various  changes  of  the  country. 
Recently  it  has  been  almost  rendered  uninhabitable  by  the 
most  dreadful  earthquakes.  It  is  now  little  more  than  a heap 
of  ruins.  As  the  morning  opened  calm  and  clear,  wdth  a 
delightful  skv,  we  sailed  close  under  the  island  Samos,  at 

263 


264  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


which  Paul  stoi)peJ  on  his  return  from  Greece  on  his  third 
missionaiy  tour.  Its  glistening  mountains  sparkled  in  the 
morning  sun.  Its  Greek  name — Samos — means  a mountain. 
Here  and  there  thin  clouds  hovered  over  the  sliarp  crvstal- 
like  peaks,  presenting  a picture  of  delicate  beauty. 

About  9 : 30  a.  m.  my  eyes  caiight  the  first  view  of  the  i.sle 
that  is  called  Patinos,  on  which  God  made  his  great  revelajtion 
to  John.  As  a halt  hour  passed,  the  full  form  of  the  island  rose 
in  view,  with  its  l)arren  peaks  crowned  here  and  there  with  a 
hovering  cloud,  from  which  an  angel  might  speak  to  mortal 
man.  It  was  just  10:30  Sabbath  morning  when  I secured  a 
full  view  of  the  island,  at  a distance  of  ten  or  fifteen  miles 
away.  It  was  the  hour  for  morning  service  in  our  churches 
far  oft’  at  home  beyond  the  seas.  It  was  the  lioly  Sabbath. 
And  was  not  John  “in  the  Spirit  on  the  Lord's  day’’  when 
Domitian  had  banished  him  to  this  barren  place  “for  the  word 
of  God,  and  for  the  testimony  of  Jesus  Christ’"?  I scanned 
the  island  for  an  hour  from  peak  to  peak,  and  from  one  rocky 
shoulder  to  another,  and  from  one  declivity  to  aii(»tlier,  if  per- 
chance my  eyes  might  fall  on  the  sjtot  Avliere  the  revelator 
stood  when  he  heard  behind  him  “a  great  voice,  as  of  a trum- 
pet saying,  I am  Al^iha  and  Omega,  the  first  and  the  last: 
and,  What  thou  seest,  write  in  a book.”  On  one  of  tliose 
mountains  “John  fell  at  his  feet  as  dead  ” when  he  saw  “ in 
the  midst  of  the  seven  candle-sticks  one  like  unto  the  Son  of 
man,  clothed  with  a garment  down  to  the  foot,  and  girt  about 
the  paps  with  a golden  girdle.  His  head  and  his  hairs  were 
white  like  wool,  as  white  as  snow ; and  his  eyes  were  as  a 
flame  of  fire ; and  his  feet  like  unto  fine  brass,  as  if  they 
burned  in  a furnace ; and  his  voice  as  the  sound  of  many 
waters.  And  he  had  in  his  right  hand  seven  stars : and  out 
of  his  mouth  went  a sharp  two-edged  sword : and  his  counte- 
nance was  as  the  sun  shineth  in  his  strengtli.”  (Revelation 
i.  13-16.) 

The  four  thousand  peojile  living  on  this  island  surely  do  not 
realize  that  these  mountains  once  glowed  in  the  glory  of  God’s 
presence.  The  town  of  Patinos  was  in  full  sight,  and  to  the 


VISIOX  OF  THE  liEVELATOB. 


2Go 


right  the  Monastery  of  St.  John  the  Divine,  founded  in  the 
twelfth  century.  And  from  yonder  isle  came  the  solemn 
warnings  and  glorious  promises  which  the  revelator  was  or- 
dered to  send  to  the  churches,  and  which  have  come  down  to 
iis  with  their  meaning  multiplied  by  ten  thousand  providen- 
ces of  God.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  much  of  the  imagery  of  the 
revelator  given  on  Patmos  is  unequaled  and  unrivaled  by  any-' 
thing  that  has  ever  been  brought  to  the  conception  of  man. 
The  fifth  chajder  of  Revelation  has  never  l)een  ecpialed  in  the 
drama.  It  is  as  high  above  Shakespeare  as  heaven  is  above 
the  earth.  Many  of  the  figures  and  much  of  the  great  lesson 
may  be  to  the  ages  to  come ; but  the  message  of  God  from 
this  lone  island  of  the  ^Egean  Sea  is  a fitting  peroration  to 
the  word  of  God  in  whatever  light  it  may  be  considered. 

' One  sits  down  in  subdued  reverence  in  sight  of  the  mount- 
ains of  Patmos  as  he  remembers  how  the  angel  carried  John 
“away  in  the  spirit  to  a great  and  high  mountain,”  where  he 
showed  him  “ the  bride,  the  Lamb’s  wife,”  and  “ that  great 
city,  the  holy  Jerusalem,  descending  out  of  heaven  from  God.” 
I conclude  that  this  scene  was  witn(*ssed  from  that  tall  peak 
northward  from  where  the  village  of  Patmos  is  situated  — at 
least  it  is  the  highest  peak  of  the  island.  P'rom  it  did  the 
entranced  a2)0stle  see  the  one  with  “ a golden  reed  to  measure 
the  city,”  which  he  saw  twelve  thousand  furlongs  every  way 
lying  four  square  ? These  very  mountains  must  have  glowed 
like  jasjier  and  shone  like  pearls  when  the  city  of  God  stood 
forth  with  the  Lord  God  Almighty,  and  the  Lamb  as  the  tem- 
ple of  it;  for  the  city  seen  from  that  lofty  mountain  “had  no 
need  of  the  sun,  neither  of  the  moon,  to  shine  in  it ; for  the 
glory  of  God  did  lighten  it,  and  the  Lamb  is  the  light  of  it.” 
And  the  gates  of  it  shall  not  be  shut  at  all;  for  there  shall  be 
no  night  there. 

Our  vessel  did  not  stoji  at  Patmos.  Only  for  three  hours 
did  my  eyes  scan  the  bare  and  rocky  little  island,  not  more 
than  forty-five  miles  in  circumference,  upon  which  God  last 
stood  to  speak  face  to  face  with  man  in  special  revelation 
of  his  will  and  divine  purposes.  At  the  noontide  another 


266  FRANCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  AND  TURKEY. 


island  slipped  betw-een  oui’  vessel  and  Patmos  and  it  was  out 
of  sight  forever.  Turning  away  from  the  lone  sentinel  of  the 
deep  from  which  our  Ia)rd  sent  his  last  message  to  the  church 
and  the  world,  I thought  I heard  the  vibration  of  that  voice 
like  mighty  notes  rolling  down  the  vista  of  the  passing  ages, 
echoing,  “Surely  I come  quickly;”  “Even  so  come.  Lord 
•Jesus.” 

The  course  of  the  vessel  over  the  Mediterranean  was  the 
same  as  that  taken  Ijy  Paul  in  his  journeyings  in  this  sea. 
We  passed  in  full  view  of  Coos  (Acts  xxi.  1),  and  by  8;  30  p. 
M.  on  Sal)bath  our  vessel  lay  at  anchor  off  the  isle  of  Rhodes. 
Plutarch  tells  us  that  here  at  Rhodes  Cicero  studied  oratory 
under  Appollonius,  and,  because  Appollonius  did  not  under- 
stand I.,atin,  declaimed  in  Greek.  So  well  did  he  accomplish 
his  tasks  that  he  won  the  ])raise  of  his  teacher,  who  said  to 
him,  “You  have  my  i)raise  and  admiration,  Cicero,  and  Greece 
my  pity  and  commiseration,  since  those  arts  and  that  elo- 
quence, which  are  the  only  glories  which  remain  to  her,  will 
now  he  transferred  by  you  to  Rome.”  A large  number  of  boys 
came  on  board  our  vessel  with  all  kinds  of  trinkets  for  sale. 
Some  articles  were  very  pretty,  and  showed  skill  in  mechan- 
ism. In  a few  hours  we  were  again  off  to  sea;  and  through  the 
.Egean  the  vessel  was  sheltered  by  little  islands  and  groups 
of  islands  all  the  way.  Then  the  vessel  strode  from  all  these 
and  crossed  the  great  hody  of  the  Mediterranean  until  on 
Tuesday  morning  our  eyes  caught  a view  of  Cyprus,  five 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  from  Smyrna,  and  one  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  from  Beyrc'ot  on  the  coast  of  Syria.  Our 
vessel  remained  at  Limasol,  on  the  south  coast  of  the  island, 
four  hours,  during  which  time  passengers,  goods,  etc.,  were 
})ut  ashore.  Among  our  cargo  were  forty-five  head  of  heef- 
cattle,  being  taken  to  Cyprus  for  beef,  to  feed  the  English 
peoifie  there.  It  was  amusing  to  see  the  men  hoist  the  cattle 
out  of  the  Iiold  and  swing  them  out  into  the  sea,  and  with 
foi;r  to  a row-boat  swim  them  two  miles  to  the  shore.  Several 
of  them  kicked  out  of  the  bandages  when  suspended  in  mid- 
air and  head  foremost  “sounded”  the  depth  of  the  sea.  How 


PAUL  AND  BARNABAS  ON  CYPRUS. 


267 


far  they  went  down  I do  not  know  ; and  such  a lookout  as 
the  Turks  kept  up  for  their  return  was  amusing.  These  were 
rude  things  to  look  upon,  under  the  splendid  eastern  skies. 
In  the  evening  the  moon  in  its  youth  rose  like  a crescent  just 
above  the  sea,  as  delicate  as  the  ring  on  a lady’s  finger.  In 
the  morning  the  sun  appeared  without  a cloud  between,  just 
like  a great  ball  of  fire  rising  out  of  the  sea. 

Four  hours  along  the  southern  coast  of  Cyprus  brought  the 
vessel  to  Larnica,  a clean  town  about  forty  miles  south  of 
Salamis,  where  Paul  entered  the  island  on  his  first  missionary 
tour.  The  island  is  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  long 
and  fifty  in  width.  It  is  probably  the  Kittim  of  Genesis  x.  4, 
and  the  Chittim  of  Numbers  xxiv.  24,  and  Isaiah  xxiii.  1-12, 
and  Ezekiel  xxvii.  6. 

When  the  persecution  arose  against  the  early  church  at 
Jerusalem,  some  of  the  disciples  who  fled  came  to  this  island 
and  preached  the  gospel.  (Acts  xi.  19.)  After  the  ordination 
of  Paul,  and  Barnabas,  who  was  a native  of  Cyprus  (Acts  iv. 
36),  to  the  special  work  to  which  the  Holy  Ghost  had  called 
them  by  the  church  at  Antioch,  Cyprus  was  the  first  place 
visited  after  their  leaving  Seleucia.  The  apostles,  landing  at 
Salamis  on  the  east  of  the  island,  passed  through  it  to  the 
west.  Here  Sergius  Paulus,  a “ prudent  man,”  heard  the 
word  of  God  * from  Paul  and  Barnabas  and  believed.  And 
here  Ely  mas  the  sorcerer  was  smitten  with  blindness.  The 
estimate  in  which  the  word  of  God  holds  those  who  seek  to 
turn  men  away  from  the  path  of  Christ  is  shown  by  Paul’s 
withering  curse  on  Elymas.  (See  Acts  xiii.  10,  11.)  Thus 
did  God  in  those  ancient  times  manifest  himself  in  power 
in  these  parts  of  the  earth  that  we  upon  whom  the  ends  of . 
the  world  have  come  might  know  and  believe  in  his  Son 
Jesus  Christ.  These  seas  and  islands  are  silent  but  mighty 
witnesses  to  the  historic  record  God  has  given  to  the  world. 

Thus  slowly  have  I led  the  reader  on  his  journey  to  the 
Holy  Land.  Our  path  has  been  through  cities,  countries, 
mountains,  rivers,  cathedrals,  palaces,  towers,  battle-fields, 
heathen  temples,  scenes  of  apostolic  labor  and  suffering,  con- 


268  FRAyCE,  ITALY,  GREECE,  ASD  TURKEY. 


vocations  of  living  men,  and  the  works  of  art  and  the  tombs' 
of  those  long  jjassed  awa}' ! We  have  passed  many  days 
ih  the  renowned  art-galleries  of  the  old  world  in  which  are. 
collected  the  products  of  the  loftiest  geniuses  the  world  has. 
ever  known.  Our  eyes  and  heart  have  often  been  enraptured 
as  we  looked  upon  the  almost  living  statues  of  marble,  and 
the  wonderful  paintings  which  the  genius  and  toil  of  the 
masters  have  be(pieathed  to  us  from  the  j)ast  ages.  We  have 
often  wandered  about  halls  where  poets  and  philosophers' 
have  lived  and  written  in  such  language  of  wisdom  and. 
ix^auty  as  to  make  themselves  immortal.  We  have  climbed 
lofty  towers  which  have  stood  for  ages  as  the  stately  monu- 
ments of  palsied  strength  and  power!  We  have  walked 
silently  through  ruins  of  ancient  palaces  of  splendor,  and. 
Grecian  and  Roman  temj)les  erected  to  the  worshi])  of  myth- 
ical deities,  and  adorned  with  art  so  costly  and  rare  that  it 
has  survived  the  crumbling  ages.  We  have  strolled  through, 
splendid  and  gaudy  cathedrals  where  priests  and  monks 
chant  their  monotonous  songs  and  prayers,  and  often  stood 
by  the  monumental  tombs  of  poets,  artists,  kings,  emperors, 
soldiers  of  valor  and  renown,  until  life  itself  has  seemed  less 
than  a dream  as  it  has  been  thus  overshadowed  by  the  pres- 
ence of  the  dust  of  those  once  mighty  in  deeds  and  of  high 
renown.  Sometinu's  we  have  turned  aside  here  and  there  to' 
behold  the  spots  where  reformers,  and  men  devout  and  holy, 
Avere  martyred  for  Christ’s  sake.  Thus,  often  Ave  haA^e  felt  the. 
stirring  of  the  sentiments  and  emotions  which  led  on  the 
march  of  the  ages  past,  and  the  brain  has  felt  the  presence 
and  throb  of  ideas  and  thoughts  Avhich  in  their  times  charmed 
and  revolutionized  the  Avorld  as  the  sIoav  centuries  rolled 
their  cycles  around.  Amid  the  ruins  of  cities  made  sacred  to 
the  Christian  world  by  the  superhuman  labors  and  sufferings,, 
and  even  death  of  the  apostles  of  Christ,  Ave  hav'e  often  found 
the  soul  uplifted  to  God  Avith  our  earnest  prayer  that  we  may 
have  grace  to  appreciate  as  Ave  ought  the  deeds  of  New  Testa- 
ment heroes,  Avho  through  Christ  made  the  early  history  of 
the  church  illustrious  above  all  the  memories  or  deeds  of 


men. 


MODERN  PAJ.E STINE 

Showing  its  Physical  features 

yahrtdrj)arruirf> 
Scale  of  y.Ti^ish  Miles  (j 


Grem 

TeUov> 

Bro>y' 

BjuL 


. CxjJta^le 
Sand  Jc  Grcyd 
Sandstone 
Granite 
Calotireous 


Ras  enryti 


Tantura,] 


.lupp  ah 


h^<Mvo/tr 


}}nbcLn.  / , 


'*^&trriud. 


\Xdiel. 


'eL-jhtjel 


(Copyr^^vt  IBBO.j 


The  dnierican  Sundc^  Scfu>ot  Vawn,  Fhilxuieiphia. 

iO 


PART  FOURTH. 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Location  of  Palestine  — How  to  Reach  It — First  View  of  the  Holy  Land 
— Long -Cherished  Hopes  Realized  — Types  in  Mountains  and  Stone 
— History  of  the  I.aud  — Abraham’s  Day  — Original  Occupants  — Their 
Location  — Patriarchs  — Possessions  of  Israel  — Period  of  the  Judges 
— Kings — Greeks  and  Romans — Times  of  Christ — Persian  Conquests 
— Crusaders  — Kajioleon  — Arabs — Present  Government  of  Palestine. 


dTF  the  reader  should  einhark  in  a steam-vessel  at  Xew 
York,  and  sail  from  that  splendid  harbor  eastward 
across  the  Atlantic  ocean,  bearing  southward  about 
five  degrees  in  three  thousand  miles,  he  would  strike 
the  eastern  world  at  the  entrance  of  the  straits  of  Gibral- 
tar. Continuing  directly  eastward  the  continent  of  Eu- 
rope would  be  found  touching  the  Avater  to  the  left,  and  the 
continent  of  Africa  on  the  right.  You  Avould  j^ass  between 
Spain  and  Portugal  on  the  European  side,  and  Morocco  on 
the  African  side.  After  passing  the  straits  of  Gibraltar 
and  continuing  to  sail  eastward  through  the  Mediterranean 
sea  along  the  northern  coast  of  Africa  about  one  thousand 
miles,  Sicily  would  appear  on  the  left  hand.  From  this 
point,  should  you  sail  east-south-east  through  the  Mediter- 
ranean fourteen  hundred  miles  more  you  would  strike  the 
shore  of  Syria,  or  Palestine.  You  would  then  be  almost  six 
thousand  miles  east  of  New  Y’ork,  and  about  six  hundred 
.miles  southward.  The  Avestern  coast  of  Palestine  lies  almost 

269 


270 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


north  and  south,  so  that  we  may  say  it  directly  faces  the  east- 
ern coast  of  the  more  southern  states  of  our  own  country.  Of 
course  the  writer's  journey  has  already  been  detailed  in  other 
Images,  and  such  a route  as  has  been  followed  would  usually 
be  chosen  by  travelers  from  America. 

On  the  morning  of  Wednesday,  October  26th,  when  I went 
upon  the  upper  deck  of  our  vessel  and  looked  toward  the  ris- 
ing sun  coming  up  in  the  cloudless  sky,  behold  there  stood 
under  the  great  orb  of  day  the  lofty  mountains  of  Lebanon, 
draped  in  their  garb  of  glory  and  wearing  a mien  of  majesty. 
As  my  eyes  caught  the  first  sight  of  the  tall  peaks  of  Lebanon 
beyond  Beyroot,  over  ten  thousand  feet  high,  though  perhaps 
seventy-five  miles  away,  I felt  that  I was  about  to  realize  the 
fondest  dream  of  my  most  lucid  moments;  and  that  after  long 
seasons  of  travel  my  feet,  through  the  great  mercy  of  God, 
were  soon  to  be  permitted  to  tread  the  lands  of  the  Bible,  and 
walk  where  once  the  weary  steps  of  the  iMaster  were  followed 
by  his  loving  disciples.  How  I remembered  the  prayer  of  the 
leader  of  Israel  a long  time  ago.  “ I pray  thee,  let  me  go  over 
and  see  the  good  land  that  is  beyond  Jordan,  that  goodly 
mountain,  and  Lebanon.”  (Deuteronomy  iii.  25.)  Weary  of 
the  sea  and  tossing  to  and  fro,  I was  glad  when  our  vessel  lay 
at  anchor  in  the  harbor  of  Beyroot,  and  small  boats  manned 
by  strangely-dressed  Arabs  rowed  us  to  the  shore  under  the 
broiling  rays  of  a tropical  sun,  which  reminded  me  that  I 
should  have  need  of  much  courage  as  Avell  as  strength  to 
pursue  well  the  purpose  to  see  the  land  of  the  Bible ! 

At  last  my  feet  rested  on  the  Holy  Land.  Scenes  which 
had  mingled  only  in  visions  of  holy  fancy  were  to  become 
real,  or  to  have  themselves  associated  forever  in  my  own  con- 
ception as  they  are  in  fact  with  towering  mountains,  populous 
cities,  and  sacred  ruins.  As  a land,  this  Canaan  has  long  been 
a type  of  the  heavenly  country.  Here  stood  the  type  before  me 
in  earth  and  stone.  So  far  as  is  known  the  writer  is  the  first 
member  of  the  great  Christian  and  denominational  brother- 
hood with  which  it  has  been  his  lot  to  stand  associated  from 
childhood  to  rest  feet  on  the  sacred  soil  of  this  land  of  the 


HISTORY  OF  THE  I.AXD. 


271 


Bible.  But  how  nuiiiy  thousands  are  safely  in  the  paradise 
above  to  whom  God  has  opened  the  land  on  high  and  the 
gates  of  the  eternal  morning ! 

Before  advancing  farther,  it  may  be  well  to  pause  for  a little 
time  in  our  journey  and  look  at  the  illustrious  history  of  this 
land  of  the  Bible,  condensed  into  a narrow'  compass. 

Nearly  two  thousand  years  Indore  Christ,  Abram,  who  had 
dwelt  in  Haran  in  the  north,  “departed  as  the  Lord  had 
spoken  unto  him,”  and  “took  8arai  his  wife,  and  Lot  his 
brother’s  son,  and  all  their  substance  that  they  had  gathered, 
and  the  souls  that  they  had  gotten  in  Haran;  and  they  went 
forth  to  go  into  the  land  of  Canaan ; and  into  the  land  of 
Canaan  they  came.  And  Abram  i)assed  through  the  land 
unto  the  place  of  Sichem  [Shechem],  unto  the  plain  of  Moreh. 
And  the  Canaanite  w'as  then  in  the  land.”  (Genesis  xii.  5,  G.) 
This  is  our  introduction  to  the  history  of  the  Holy  Land. 
Abraham  came  down  by  way  of  Damascus  and  pitched  his 
tent  somewliere  under  the  shadows  of  Blount  Gerizim,  where 
-Ids  flocks  could  easily  be  led  to  pasture  on  the  plain  of  Moreh, 
east  and  south  of  Ebal  and  Gerizim. 

The  Canaanites,  who  then  held  possession  of  the  country, 
were  decendants  of  Canaan  (meaning  low),  the  fourth  son  of 
Ham,  the  second  son  of  Noah.  (Genesis  x.  6.)  At  an  earl\'  day 
they  seem  to  have  become  intermingled  with  tlie  descendants 
of  Shem,  as  they  appear  to  have  spoken  the  Semitic  lan- 
guage, which  is  akin  to  the  Hebrew.  Tliese  Canaanites,  tlie 
early  occupants  of  Palestine,  were  divided  into  seven  tribes. 
The  Canaanites  dwelt  on  the  lower  .Jordan.  (Genesis  x.  18-19.) 
'Pliis  name,  however,  was  also  used  as  a general  term  for  the 
occupants  of  the  land.  The  mighty  Amorites,  mountaineers, 
dwelt  in  the  south  of  the  land,  but  they  also  sometimes 
extended  their  possessions  eastwaird  and  northw'ard.  The 
Perizzites  dwelt  in  the  country  west  and  south  of  Carmel. 
The  Hittites  owned  the  land  about  Hebron  — for  of  them 
Abraham  bought  the  cave  of  Machpelah.  (Genesis  xxiii.  10.) 
The  Hivites  dwelt  in  Sht'chem  and  north w'ard.  The  Jeb- 
usites  dwelt  in  and  about  Jerusalem.  The  Gergesites,  or 


272 


THE  HOTA'  LAND. 


Gerisites  seem  to  have  held  possession  in  different  portions  of 
the  land. 

At  a later  period  we  have  mention  of  the  Semitic  tribes, 
different  of  course  from  the  Canaanites  — such  as  the  Edom- 
ites and  the  Moabites,  and  the  Amorites,  the  descendants  of 
the  daughters  of  Lot.  Besides  these,  we  read  in  the  Bible  of 
the  Midianites,  wandering  tribes  from  the  East,  and  the  Amal- 
elvites,  first  from  Arabian  nomads,  and  afterward  connected 
with  the  descendants  of  Esau.  At  the  time  of  the  occupation 
of  the  land  by  Israel  under  Joshua  we  read  of  the  Anakim, 
the  descendants  of  Anak,  who  were  giants  ‘‘of  a great  stature.” 
(Xunil)ers  xiii.  32.) 

Syria  was  from  ancient  times  occupied  by  the  descendants 
of  Ham  and  Sliem,  and  these  people  were  intermingled  with 
nomadic  trdies  from  the  East.  The  country  at  the  time  of 
Abraham,  and  subsequently,  was  divided  into  small  king- 
doms, over  which  petty  monarchs  held  dominion. 

Abraham,  the  patriarch  whom  God  had  selected  to  become 
the  head  of  his  chosen  people  and  the  father  of  the  faithful, 
who  was  horn  B.  C.  199G,  two  years  after  the  death  of  Noah, 
came  at  the  age  of  seventy-five  years  into  the  good  land 
of  Canaan ; and  from  about  1921  before  Christ,  to  1706,  a 
period  of  two  hundred  and  fifteen  years,  Abraham,  Isaac,  and 
Jacob  dwelt  in  tents,  the  heirs  of  promise  to  an  inheritance 
of  the  land,  in  which  as  yet  they  owned  only  a burial-place 
at  Hebron.  In  our  visits  to  be  made  in  the  future  to  many 
sacred  places,  we  shall  often  come  upon  the  grounds  where 
their  tents  were  pitched,  and  pass  over  the  hills  and  valleys 
where  their  flocks  found  pasturage,  and  perchance  sit  down 
V)y  the  wells  they  dug  and  look  upon  the  caves  and  tombs 
where  thousands  of  years  ago  they  were  gathered  to  their 
fathers  when  the  weary  march  was  over.  We  shall  seem  to 
hear  the  lowing  of  their  flocks  and  picture  their  lordly  tread 
as  we  look  upf>n  some  noble  Arabian  chief  leading  his  vast 
flocks  over  the  same  pasture-lands  where  those  of  Abraham, 
Isaac,  aiid  -Jacob  once  were  tended. 

On  the  tenth  day  of  the  first  month  Israel  came  up  out  of 


PERIOD  OF  THE  JUDGES. 


273 


the  waters  of  the  Jordan  and  camped  at  Gilgal,  in  the  plain 
of  Jericho,  north  of  the  Dead  Sea.  This  was  April,  B.  C.  1451, 
or  four  hundred  and  seventy  years  after  Abraham  came  to  She- 
chem  from  Ilaran.  Then  followed  the  possession  of  the  land 
by  Israel,  and  the  division  of  tribes, — Reuben,  Gad,  and  half 
of  the  tribe  of  Manassah  on  the  east  of  tlio  Jordan.  The 
division  of  the  land  was  perfected  by  Joshua  when  the  taber- 
nacle had  been  set  up  at  Shiloh. 

Four  hundred  and  fifty  years,  under  the  judges,  the  war- 
history  of  Israel  stretches  over  the  Holy  Land,  until  under 
Samuel,  the  judge  and  2)rophet,  the  theocracy  came  to  an 
end,  and  about  1095  B.  C.,  Saul  was  anointed  king  of  I.s- 
rael.  During  the  reign  of  the  judges  the  sanctuary  of  the 
Lord  abode  at  Shiloh.  Saul,  David,  and  Solomon,  each  in  turn, 
reigned  forty  years,  and  under  their  dominion  the  country 
obtained  its  greatest  si)lendor,  and  its  highest  rank  among  the 
history  of  all  nations.  The  whole  land  was  united  under  one 
dominion,  and  the  glory  of  the  land  was  as  the  glory  of  Leb- 
anon. 

Soon,  however,  the  rlivision  of  the  government  occurred 
under  Rehoboam,  who  could  only  lurid  the  southern  portion 
of  the  land,  while  “Jeroboam,  the  son  of  Xebat,  who  made 
Israel  to  sin,”  established  his  throne  at  Shechem.  Only  .Ju- 
dah and  Benjamin  remained  loyal  to  Rehoboam.  Omri  after- 
ward removed  the  capital  of  Israel  north  and  west  eight  miles 
from.  Shechem  to  Samaria.  The  lapse  of  two  hundred  and 
fifty-five  years  baw  Shalmaneser  with  his  army  subduing  Is- 
rael, then  reigned  over  by  Hoshea,  and  at  the  end  of  that 
year,  Sai-gon,  son  of  Shalmaneser,  “ king  of  Assyria,”  carried 
Isx’ael  away  captive,  never  to  return  again  to  their  favored 
land.  In  this  short  space  of  two  hundred  and  fifty-five  years 
we  have  the  reign  of  nineteen  kings,  and  the  illustrious  his- 
tory of  Elijah  and  Elisha,  who  shine  as  lights  in  the  dark- 
ness of  the  idolatry  of  the  people.  Zechariah  the  martyr, 
Jonah,  Amos,  and  Hosea  also  shine  in  this  period.  We 
shall  often  cross  the  paths  they  trod,  and  look  on  the  land- 
scapes and  ruined  cities  which  the  times  of  these  prophets 
18 


274 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


have  glorified.  After  the  captivity  of  Israel,  the  land  lay  a 
long  time  in  desolation.  People  came  from  the  East,  with 
wanderers  of  the  ten  tribes,  no  doubt,  and  dwelt  in  the  land  ! 

When  Jehoachin  reigned  over  Judah,  Xebuchadnezzar  took 
the  Holy  City,  six  hundred  and  five  years  before  the  Christian 
era,  and  carried  the  vessels  of  the  sanctuaiy  to  Babylon. 
Before  twenty  years  more  passed  Zedekiah,  Ezekiel,  and  all 
Judah  were  carried  away' to  bondage  in  Babylon.  Thus  when 
about  four  hundred  years  had  passed  from  the  death  of  Solo- 
mon, Isaiah,  Joel,  Micah,  Jeremiah,  Xahum,  Ilabakkuk,  Zeph- 
aniah,  and  other  illustrious  names  on  the  pages  of  the  most 
marvelously  illumined  history  of  the  world  had  risen  aird 
.shone  in  a splendor  and  beauty  never  to  fade,  though  their 
fair  land  was  devastated  by  arirries,  and  the  holy  and  beau- 
tiful house  of  the  Lord  was  made  desolate  and  all  their 
pleasant  things  laid  waste. 

When  the  times  of  sorrow  were  past,  in  which  Israel  hanged 
their  harps  on  the  willows,  and  their  captives  wasted  them 
and  required  of  them  mirth  when  they  could  not  sing  the 
Lord's  song  in  a strange  land,  five  hundred  and  thirty  3’ears 
before  Christ,  under  Cyrus,  they  began  to  return  to  their 
own  land,  and  brought  back  with  them  the  treasures  of  the 
Lord’s  house  and  again  built  the  temple  on  Mount  Moriah. 
Twenty  years  later,  under  the  dominion  of  Darius,  the  temple 
was  again  dedicated  (March,  B.  C.  515).  In  this  period  of  cap- 
tivit}’  and  return  and  subsequent  history,  down  to  four  hun- 
dred \’ears  before  Christ,  we  have  the  lives  of  Daniel,  Haggai, 
Zechariah,  Ezra,  Nehemiah,  and  Malachi.  This  covers  the 
period  of  the  time  of  Pericles,  Herodotus,  Xenophon,  and 
Socrates,  of  Grecian  fame,  and  the  time  of  the  republic  of 
Rome.  Under  Nehemiah,  Jerusalem  was  again  rebuilt  — its 
desolation  disappeared,  and  its  walls  again  rose  in  magnificence 
around  the  city  of  the  great  King. 

For  nearly  one  hundred  years,  and  to  the  death  of  Alexan- 
der, Palestine  had  peace  and  prosperity.  After  this  time 
came  great  scenes  of  battle.  Ptolemy  brought  the  land  under 
Egyptian  power.  Meantime,  Grecian  influences  affected  the 


TIMES  OF  CHRIST. 


275 


wes^tern  portion  of  the  laud  and  the  Aramaic  language  began 
to  supersede  the  Hebrew.  The  Greek  language  also  became 
largely  known.  At  the  opening  of  the  second  century  be- 
fore  Christ,  Antiochus  endeavored  to  set  up  paganism,  and 
pagan  altars,  the  Greek  religion,  on  the  site  of  the  altars  of 
God.  Then  followed  the  reign  of  the  Maccabean  kings,  and 
the  history  of  terrible  wars.  During  this  period  of  independ- 
ence the  temple  was  held  to  its  sacred  uses  and  the  priests 
exercised  authority.  But  the  rising  power  of  Rome  saw  with 
its  eagle  eye  the  east  coast  of  the  Great  Sea,  and  Pompey,  a 
little  more  than  sixty  years  before  the  Christian  era,  con(|uered 
Jerusalem.  Twenty  years  later  Herod  the  Great,  assisted  by 
the  Romans,  gained  possession  of  Palestine,  and  wAs  soon  ap- 
l)ointed  king.  He  rebuilt  the  temple  and  fortified  the  city  of 
Jerusalem.  The  ruins  of  many  splendid  buildings  erected  in 
various  parts  of  Palestine  during  this  period  now  greet  the 
eye  of  the  traveler  on  the  sacred  soil  of  this  wonderful  land. 

The  Messiah  .Jesus  had  just  been  born  in  Bethlehem,  and 
carried  by  Joseph  and  Mary  into  Egypt  for  shelter  from  the 
rage  of  Herod  the  Great,  when  Herod  died  and  the  country  was 
divided  into  three  kingdoms.  Archelaus  reigned  in  the  south, 
over  Samaria,  Judea,  and  Idumea;  Antipas  in  Galilee  and 
Persea ; and  Philip,  half  brother  of  Archelaus,  with  his  capital 
at  Ca'sarea,  reigned  over  the  region  of  the  Hermon. 

While  Christ  grew  in  favor  with  God  and  man  and  waxed 
strong  in  spirit,  dwelling  with  Joseph  at  Nazareth,  various 
changes  were  wrought,  and  Pilate  in  A.  D.  26  became  the 
Roman  governor.  The  Jews  longed  for  a temporal  deliverer, 
and  when  Christ  revealed  the  kingdom  which  is  not  of  this 
world  they  cried,  “Crucify  him,  crucify  him  I ” “Then  Pilate 
therefore  took  Jesus,  and  scourged  him.”  “ And  when  he  had 
scourged  Jesus  he  delivered  him  to  be  crucified.” 

The  times  of  Felix,  Festus,  and  Herod  Agrippa  had  scarcely 
passed  when  the  Zealots  broke  out  in  fury ; but  in  A.  D.  67 
Vespasian  came  with  an  army  of  sixty  thousand  and  con- 
quered Galilee ; and  three  years  later  his  son  Titus  (September 
7th,  A.  D.  70,)  saw  Jerusalem  lying  in  ruins  and  a desolation 


276 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


which  can  not  he  told.  The  awful  siege  was  ended.  The 
temple  lay  in  charred  ruins.  For  half  a century  the  Holy  City 
in  abandonment  slept  in  death  and  ash-covered  desolateness. 

Sixty  years  after  the  destruction  of  the  city  by  Titus,  the 
Roman  Emperor  Hadrian  rebuilt  Jerusalem,  and  constructed 
its  walls  anew.  Nearly  two  hundred  years  later,  under  Con- 
stantine, by  the  aid  of  his  mother,  Helena,  the  sacred  j^laces 
connected  with  the  lifemf  Christ  were  sought  out.  The  whole 
land  became  Christian,  and  pilgrimages  were  made  in  great 
numbers  to  these  sacred  places. 

In  A.  D.  616,  Khosroo,  king  of  Persia,  took  Syria  and  Pal- 
estine from  the  Roman  Empire,  and  twenty  years  later  the 
Arabs,  under  Omar,  took  i)ossession  of  the  entire  country. 
Three  hundred  and  thirty  years  later  Palestine  \vas  con- 
quered by  the  Egyptian  Fatimites.  Nearly  one  hundred  and 
twenty  years  later  began  the  Crusades,  in  A.  D.  1096.  At  dif- 
ferent periods  the  Crusaders  held  nearly  all  of  the  important 
])laces  of  Syria  and  Palestine.  We  shall  often  meet  the  ruins 
of  structures  built  b}'  these  Crusaders,  and  shall  not  unfre- 
<|uently  he  almost  bewildered  by  tbe  fatal  mistakes  they  made 
in  the  location  of  sacred  places.  At  about  A.  D.  1518,  Selim, 
tbe  sultan  of  Turkey,  wrested  Palestine  from  the  power  of  the 
Mamalukes  and  made  it  a part  of  the  Turkish  empire,  as  it 
remains  to  this  day.  In  A.  D.  1799,  as  Napoleon  returned  from 
Egyj)t  he  captured  Joppa,  and  subsequently  fought  the  Turks 
on  the  plain  of  Esdraelon  above  Jezreel,  defeating  them  and 
driving  them  beyond  Nazareth.  The  French  and  English 
governments  of  late  years  have  exerted  great  influence  over 
the  !Musselmen  in  Palestine  and  Syria,  and  it  was  through  the 
French  army  that  the  persecution  of  the  Christians  by  the 
Turks  and  Druses  at  Damascus  and  in  the  Lebanon  INIount- 
ains,  in  A.  D.  1860,  was  put  to  an  end,  but  not  until  about 
fourteen  thousand  had  perished  under  the  reign  of  terror. 
The  country  is  now  governed  by  pasbas  who  are  amenable  to 
tbe  sultan  of  Turkey,  or  the  Turkish  officers.  Nominally, 
freedom  is  granted  to  all  religions.  In  one  or  two  districts  the 
pasha  is  required  to  profess  the  Christian-Catholic  religion. 


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Kadesh 


PALESTINE 


IN  THK  TmE 

OF  THE  PATRIARCHS 

Illustrating  the  Pentateuch 


EngliBh  Milea 


FUkiCo.  Enzs.  N.T. 


CHAPTER  II. 


Time  to  Visit  Palestine  — Order  of  Travel  in  the  Spring  and  Antumn — 
Sojourn  in  Tents  — Number  of  American  Visitors  to  Palestine— Syria 
— Beyroot — Hotel  de  Orient  — History  of  Beyroot  — Mission-Work 
— Harbor  — University  — Printing-House  — Cacti  — Fountains — Scene 
at  the  Well  — Eleazar--  Maidens  Drawing  Water  — Beggars  — Poor  — 
No  Hospitals  for  the  Destitute — Christ’s  Contact  with  the  Suffering  — 
Bartiniaeus — Shops — Preparation  for  the  Journey — Methods  of  Travel 
— Damascus  Road— Why  no  Roads  Now — Ancient  Chariots— Wagons 
of  Joseph  — Roman  Roads  — One  Path  Prepared  for  Pilgrims  — Draw- 
ing for  Horses  — Grave  of  Kingsley. 


spring -season  is  usually  preferred  for  a journey 
through  Palestine.  In  March  and  April  the  grass, 
^ flowers,  and  harvests  are  most  abundant,  and  then 
'the  country  is  seen  at  its  best.  At  this  season  of  the 
year  travelers  in  the  orient  usually  visit  Egvj)t  first,  and 
then  enter  Palestine  from  Jop]>a,  in  the  southern  part, 
and  from  Jerusalem  go  northward  as  the  weather  becomes 
Avarmer,  passing  out  of  the  country  through  Syria.  Many 
for  convenience  and  other  reasons  travel  in  Palestine  in  the 
autumn.  M'hile  the  country  at  this  season  is  largely  barren 
except  the  fields  of  corn,  and  hence  more  desolate  in  appear- 
ance, its  features  and  rocks  and  ruins  of  cities  are  more  easily 
seen  than  when  vegetation  is  abundant.  November  and  the 
early  part  of  December  is  a good  season  to  visit  the  Holy  Land. 
Persons  traveling  there  at  this  season  reverse  the  order  be- 
fore mentioned,  and  enter  Syria  first  and  slowly  proceed  south- 
ward, journeying  like  Abram  of  old,  going  southward  through 
the  land.  Of  course  a large  portion  of  the  visitors  to  the 
Holy  Land  do  not  undertake  any  considerable  journey 
through  the  country,  but,  going  directly  to  Jerusalem,  make 

277 


278 


THE  HOLY  LAXD. 


short  excursions  in  various  directions.  This  is  more  quickly- 
done,  and  with  less  fatigue  and  danger  of  sickness,  and  -n’ith 
less  ex])ense.  The  United  States  consul  at  Jerusalem  told  me 
that  five  hundred  Americans  visited  Jerusalem  in  a single 
year.  A very  few  of  these  saw  the  entire  land.  One  of  the 
most  valuable  features  in  an  autumn  visit  is  the  fact  that  you 
have  the  most  interesting  portion  of  the  country  at  the  last, 
and  the  hardest  toil  and  travel  at  the  first.  The  best  of  the 
wine  comes  at  the  last  of  the  feast. 

Syria  was  embraced  in  the  covenant  of  the  Lord  with  Abra- 
ham and  was  a part  of  the  promise  to  Israel,  yet  it  was  not  reck- 
oned in  the  dominion  on  account  of  the  disobedience  of  the 
people.  It  lies  directly  north  of  Palestine,  on  the  coast  of  the 
Mediterranean.  Before  noon  on  the  twenty-sixth  of  Xovem- 
ber  our  feet  had  rested  on  the  streets  of  the  beautiful  city.  Bey- 
root,  and  our  eyes  were  greeted  with  many  surprising  scenes. 
We  were  lodged  at  the  Hotel  de  Orient,  the  rooms  of  which  are 
large,  with  ceilings  nearly  tAventy  feet  high.  Beyroot  is  not 
mentioned  in  the  Bible,  but  from  Strabo,  Avho  mentions  the 
city  B.  C.  140,  and  other  sources  Ave  learn  that  it  Avas  at  that 
time  a city  of  importance.  It  had  an  illustrious  history  down 
to  the  time  of  Justinian,  about  A.  1).  5.50.  In  A.  D.  551  it  AA*as 
largely  destroyed  by  an  earthquake.  Under  the  Moslems  it 
sunk  into  insignificance.  Much  of  its  histoiy  is  in  obscurity. 
It  is  now  a splendid  city  Avith  nearly  one  hundred  thousand 
people.  Many  of  its  houses  and  streets  have  an  American 
or  European  appearance,  AA'hile  ])ortions  of  its  pojmlation  and 
streets  are  strikingly  oriental.  Two  thirds  of  the  jDeople  are 
Christian.  Beyroot  is  the  great  sea-port  of  Syria.  At  this 
point  missionary  Avork  has  been  conducted  successfully  by  the 
Presbyterian  and  Congregational  churches  for  OA'er  half  a cen- 
tury. The  work  done  in  this  time  has  borne  precious  fruit. 
So  mucb  of  the  influence  of  this  toil  prevails  that  the  place 
has  a resemblance  to  an  English  toAAm.  The  vioAA-  atforded 
of  the  sea  is  delightful;  and  the  best  harbor  is  here  seen  that 
is  to  be  found  on  the  Syrian  coast.  This  is  the  great  trading- 
port  for  Damascus  and  all  Syria.  The  commerce  and  educa- 


HISTORY  OF  BEYROOT. 


279 


tional  and  religious  features  of  the  cit}'  make  it  a praise  in  the 
earth.  The  American  mission,  first  founded  in  1820,  opened  a 
new  era.  Bey  root  is  the  center  of  the  entire  educational  system 
of  the  American  missionaries.  The  Syrian  Protestant  college 
has  a splendid  location,  overlooking  the  sea,  and  buildings 
and  grounds  worth  over  two  hundred  thousand  dollars.  About 
one  hundred  and  thirty  students  were  in  attendance  when  I 
visited  it.  They  were  a fine-looking  class  of  j’oung  men.  It 
has  become  the  center  of  a mighty  force  in  Palestine  and 
Syria.  In  these  countries  there  are  now  two  hundred  and 
forty  Protestant  schools,  with  thirteen  thou-sand  children  in 
them.  There  are  over  one  hundred  American  and  European 
teachers  and  preachers  and  over  four  hundred  native  laborers 
in  the  Master's  vineyard.  The  college  has  full  scientific,  med- 
ical, and  other  dejiartments.  In  a large  measure  tlie  sjiirit 
of  education  has  taken  hold  of  the  entire  jieople.  There  are 
good  schools  for  girls;  and  a Christian  life  is  enlarging  its 
power  here.  Among  the  most  interesting  and  important  in- 
stitutions here  is  the  publishing  house  of  the  same  society. 
It  issues  weekly  as  well  as  monthly  periodicals,  in  the  Arabic 
language.  On  the  same  lot  they  have  an  excellent  church, 
the  services  of  which  are  largely  attended.  Close  by  is  the* 
best-arranged  Sabbath-school  chapel  I have  ever  seen.  It  was 
erected  at  the  expense  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Henry  Dale,  of  Orange, 
New  York,  as  a memorial  to  a deceased  little  son,  Gerald  F. 
Dale.  The  plan  was  arranged  by  Dr.  Jessup,  who  had  charge 
of  the  work.  We  were  most  kindly  greeted  by  this  veteran 
and  faithful  missionary  here.  Dr.  Van  Dyke,  and  others.  In 
all  the  educational  work  of  this  country  the  English  language 
forms  the  basis,  while  the  other  languages  are  taught.  This 
opens  English  literature,  thought,  and  enterprise  to  the  stu- 
dents. The  city  is  in  telegraphic  communication  with  En- 
gland and  America. 

Beyroot  is  a pleasant  introduction  to  a sojourn  in  the  Holy 
Land.  Still,  one  recognizes  at  once  the  strange  and  unusual 
appearance  of  all  about  him.  Great  cactuses,  growing  up  to  a 
height  of  ten  feet,  form  powerful  hedges  and  fences  in  Beyroot, 


280 


THE  HOLY  LAXD. 


being  found  as  well  all  through  Palestine.  The  streets  jjresent 
a striking  picture.  Camels,  donkeys,  and  women  are  the 
bearers  of  burdens.  Xo  wagon  or  Awdricle  of  any  kind  greets 
the  eye.  The  fountains  along  the  streets  or  under  the  hills 
are  crowded  by  poorly-dressed  women  with  their  great  earthen 
jugs  or  jars.  Tliey  fill  them  and  lift  them  to  tlieir  shoulders 
or  heads  and  carry  tlieni  away.  Here  at  a fountain  camels  are 
waiting  for  water  to  be  drawn,  while  women  as  in  the  time  of 
Abraham  perform  their  service  at  the  well.  I was  at  once 
reminded  of  the  prayer  of  Eleazar,  the  faithful  and  devout 
servant  of  Abraham,  when  he  sought  a wife  for  Isaac.  “He 
made  his  camels  to  kneel  down  without  the  city  by  a well  of 
water  at  the  time  of  the  evening,  even  the  time  that  Avomen 
go  out  to  draAV  Avater”  (Genesis  xxiv.  10);  and  he  prayed, 
“Behold,  I stand  here  by  the  Avell  of  Avater;  and  the  daughters 
of  the  men  of  the  city  come  out  to  draw  Avater : and  let  it 
come  to  pass,  that  the  damsel  to  Avhoni  I shall  say.  Let  doAvn 
thy  pitcher,  I pray  thee,  that  I may  drink  ; and  she  shall  say. 
Drink,  and  I Avill  give  thy  camels  drink  also  : let  the  same  be 
she  that  thou  hast  appointed  for  tliy  servant  Isaac.’’  (^Genesis 
xxiA’.  lo,  14.)  As  Ave 
slowly  ascended  the 
hill  going  toAvard  the 
college,  and  the  AVum- 
en  came  out  for  Ava- 
tcr,  there  Avas  at  once 
an  illustration  of 
AAdrat  is  said  in  the 
story  ot  Saul  in  search 
of  his  father's  asses — 

“As  they  Avent  up  in 
the  ascent  of  the  city, 
they  found  young 
maidens  going  out  to 
draAA' water.”  (T.  Sam-  FooiSiAiN  by  the  way -side. 

uel  ix.  11.)  These  fountains  are  hailed  Avith  delight  in  all 
parts  of  the  land.  We  .shall  Irave  occasion  to  sit  down  by 
them  again  often  in  our  journey. 


PREPARATION  FOR  THE  JOURNEY. 


281 


The  streets  of  Beyroot,  like  those  of  every  town  in  Pales- 
tine and  Syria,  are  thronged  with  beggars.  We  had  gone  but 
a little  Avay  from  our  hotel  into  the  city  when  we  were  met 
by  several  blind  beggars  who  sat  by  the  way-side.  It  has 
always  been  so.  There  are  no  hospitals  for  the  afflicted  and 
blind,  and  no  system  of  charities  for  the  i)oor.  Now,  as  in 
the  Savior’s  time,  Bartima'us  sits  by  the  highway-side,  beg- 
ging (Mark  x.  46);  but -alas,  there  is  none  to  .say,  “Go  thj’ 
way,  thy  faith  hath  made  thee  whole.”  (Mark  x.  52.)  The 
facts  just  stated  explain  how  it  was  that  Christ  came  so 
largely  in  contact  with  the  blind,  and  maimed,  and  poor,  and 
the  lepers.  How  they  must  have  thronged  him ! His  love 
and  healing  attracted  them  to  him  wherever  he  went.  The 
first  half  day  in  the  streets  of  this  city  thronged  with  the 
blind  and  maimed  and  poor  put  a new  comment  upon  the 
ministry  of  Christ,  “ who  went  about  doing  good.” 

Small  shojos  are  kept  by  women  as  well  as  by  men.  They 
sell  oranges,  grapes,  figs,  and  sugar-cam'.  Many  of  the  poor 
people  ajipear  to  live  on  raw  sugar-cane.  A lad  buys  a stalk 
and  carries  it  with  him,  gnawing  away  at  it  now  and  then 
till  it  is  all  gone. 

The  houses  in  their  entire  construction,  with  their  flat  roofs, 
presented  to  my  ('yes  a strange  ai^pearance.  Of  these  I shall 
say  more  when  more  extended  observations  bave  been  made. 

My  stay  in  Beyroot  was  short,  being  only  one  day  and 
night.  There  are  few  ruins  and  no  iflaces  of  biblical  anticj- 
uity,  and  our  arrangements  for  the  journey  were  to  be  com- 
pleted. A half  day  was  spent  in  looking  up  places  of  inter- 
est, and  making  some  purchases.  That  night  — until  far  in 
the  night  — several  of  the  company  toiled  hard  with  linen 
cloth,  needle,  and  thread,  preparing,  fitting,  and  sewing  up 
the  nicest  and  m'atest  things  for  the  head  one  could  well 
fancy,  as  a protection  against  the  hot,  burning  rays  of  the 
sun.  What  I made  was  a compromise  between  a veil  and 
an  irmbrella.  What  would  some  good  wives  have  said  could 
they  have  seen  Dr.  Fry,  Dr.  Thompson,  and  the  writer  meas- 
uring, fitting,  cutting,  and  making  these  head-dresses?  We 


282 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


Leat  even  the  Arabs.  Be  it  remembered  that  during  the 
middle  of  the  day  the  thermometer  is  up  to  about  ninety 
degrees.  Then  there  were  other  preparations  for  travel  to  be 
made. 

Shall  we  pack  trunks  and  get  ready  to  take  the  cars? 
Not  so.  There  are  no  cars  in  Palestine  or  Syria!  'I'hen  we 
shall  go  by  the  stage  coach  ? Not  so.  There  are  no  coaches  or 
wagons  in  Palestine  for  general  use  in  traveling.  There  are, 
with  two  exce])tions,  even  no  roads  in  Palestine ! There  is 
one  splendid  i)ike  from  Bey  root  to  Damascus, — a distance  of 
seventy-two  miles.  It  was  made  by  a French  company  about 
twenty  years  ago.  The  company  run  a JilUjence  to  Damascus 
daily,  making  the  trip  in  thirteen  hours.  It  also  owns  and 
runs  transportation-w'agons  from  Beyroot  to  Damascus,  which 
carry  freight  as  do  cars  in  otlier  countries.  This  road  crosses 
both  the  Lebanon  and  anti-Lebanon  mountains  Another 
like  road  for  wagons  connects  betvv'een  Jo})j)a  and  Jerusalem. 
Of  course  the  country  was  not  always  destitute  of  roads.  And 
here  w’e  have  suddenly  come  U})on  one  of  the  examples  of  the 
great  decline  of  the  country.  When  .Tacob,  sorrowing  over  tbe 
I0.SS  of  Josepli,  and  Simeon,  and  Benjamin,  heard  the  story  of 
the  reigning  of  his  beloved  son  Joseph  amid  the  abundance  of 
corn  in  Egypt,  he  believed  it  not  until  he  saw  the  wagons 
which  .Joseph  hail  sent  to  carry  him  down  into  Egypt.  (Gen- 
esis xlv.  27.)  A number  of  years  after,  wlien  Jo!ie])h  carried 
the  embalmed  body  of  Jacob  to  Hebron  to  1)6  buried  with 
Abraham  and  Isaac,  there  went  up  with  him  both  chariots 
and  horsemen.”  (Gen.  1.  9.)  When  Deborah,  that  pro2:)hetess 
of  God,  was  roused  up  four  hundred  years  later  to  lead  Israel 
to  battle  against  Sisera,  she  was  mot  ]>y  over  nine  hundred 
chariots  of  iron.  (.Judges  iv.  13.)  Thirteen  centuries  later  we 
read  of  Philip  the  evangelist  being  directed  by  the  Spirit  to 
go  and  join  himself  to  the  chariot  of  the  Ethiopian  who  was 
returning  to  his  own  country  from  Jerusalem.  (Acts  viii.  29.) 
Here  and  there  are  yet  to  be  seen  traces  of  old  Roman  high- 
ways over  which  the  Savior  passed  in  the  days  of  his  pil- 
grimage on  earth.  But  with  the  coufpiest  of  the  land  by  the 


DR  A WIXG  FOR  HORSES. 


283 


Turks,  the  camel  and  donkey  took  tlie  ])lace  of  wagons  and 
chariots,  and  for  a thousand  years  no  attention  has  been  paid 
to  the  roads.  They  climb  over  rocks  and  stones,  and  above 
precipices,  and  down  deep  defiles  generation  after  generation, 
without  even  amending  a place  or  picking  up  a stone.  The 
only  laboring  at  roads  I sa-w  in  Palestine  was  a few  men  pre- 
paring -a  path  down  a steep  deelivity  to  the  brook  Cherith,  so 
that  the  holy  pilgrims  from  Jerusalem  to  Bethabara,  passing 
under  the  shades  of  the  Quarantine  mountains,  might  turn 
aside  to  the  traditional  shelter  of  the  old  Prophet  Elijah, 
where  God  sent  him  food  in  the  morning  and  at  night,  in 
the  time  of  famine. 

, Thus  it  is  that  traveling  in  the  Holy  Land  must  now  be 
done  on  foot  or  on  horsebaek,  or  on  donkeys  or  camels.  We 
chose  horses,  which  are  usually  preferred.  After  lunch  on 
Thursday  our  company  was  called  into  the  yard  adjoining 
the  hotel  to  draw  for  horses.  This  was  a matter  of  consid- 
erable importance,  inasmuch  as  it  involved  thirty  days  in  the 
saddle,  — often  over  jnecipitous  mountain-paths.  The  num- 
bers w'ere  put  on  little  slips  of  paper,  which  were  put  into  a 
little  sack.  The  horses  were  al.«o  numbered.  The  number 
drawn  directed  the  drawee  to  his  horse.  I drew  last,  and 
drew  “No.  1.”  So  it  is  that  “there  are  last  that  shall  be 
first.”  There  was  a hasty  trial  of  the  horses  drawn,  and 
some  exchanging  was  done.  An  amusing  incident  — but 
one  which  might  have  been  serious  — greeted  us  at  the  be- 
ginning. Dr.  Fry  had  not  been  in  the  saddle  two  minutes 
until  he  was  thrown  from  it  with  force,  but  without  receiv- 
ing any  injury.  It  was  hardly  to  be  attributed  to  bad  horse- 
manship, since  he  was  for  years  an  itinerant;  and  then  his 
skill  subsequently  proved  equal  to  any  emergency.  Our 
horses  were  native  Syrian  — about  one  third  smaller  than 
the  average  American  saddle-horse.  The  horses  were  not 
gaited  wdth  care,  but  walked  well ; and  I found  mine  a good 
loper.  They  are  fleet  and  marvelously  active  in  climbing  over 
dangerous  and  rocky  passes.  They  were  shod  with  a shoe 
which  covered  the  entire  bottom  of  the  foot.  The  one  the 


284 


THE  HOLY  LAXD. 


writer  rode  never  grew  tired,  but  was  always  ready  for  any 
speed,  no  matter  how  steej)  or  rough  the  way. 

During  my  stay  in  Beyroot  I visited  tlie  Protestant  ceme- 
teiw,  where  Bishop  Kingsley,  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church,  sleeps  the  last  long  sleep.  His  tomb  is  marked  by  a 
l)lain  gray-granite  monument,  about  six  feet  square  at  the 
base  and  about  eighteen  feet  high.  It  bears  the  foiloAving 
inscription : 

REV.  CALVIN  KINGSLEY,  D.  D,, 

Bishop  of  the 

METHODIST  EPISCOPAL  CHURCH. 

Born  in  the  State  of  New  York,  U.  S.  of 
America,  September  8th,  1812. 

Died  in  Beyroot,  Sj'ria,  April  6th,  1870, 

AVhile  making  for  his  Church  the  First 
Episcopal  Tour  of  the  Globe. 

May  his  Tomb  unite  more  closely  Asia  and 
America. 

On  the  reverse  side  is  the  following : 

ERECTED 

as  a tribute 
of  affection  and  esteem 
by  order  of  the 
GENERAL  CONFERENCE 
of  the 

■ METHODIST  EPISCOPAL  CHURCH. 

His  grave  is  a sacred  spot.  It  will  be  remembered  that  his 
death  Avas  sudden, — from  heart-disease, — and  occasioned  great 
sorroAv.  Visitors,  here,  of  all  religious  denominations,  drop  an 
affectionate  and  tender  tear  over  the  lone  tomb.  I believe  it 
has  never  been  publicly  stated  in  America  that  two  persons 
Avere  killed  by  the  falling  of  the  base  of  the  monument  at  the 
time  of  its  erection. 


CHAPTER  III. 


Leaving  Beyroot  — Loading  the  Beasts — Our  Company — Modes  of  Ac- 
commodation— Dragoman  — Crossing  the  Valiey  — Pines — Palms  — 
Sj’camore-Tree  — Vineyards  — Lebanon  Mountain  — Ascending  the 
Lebanon  — Desolateuess  — Traveling  Family  — Outlook  from  Leba- 
non — Lofty  Peaks  — View  of  Hermon  — Ancient  Glory  of  Lebanon — 
Cedars — Toward  our  Tents. 

RIDAY  morning,  October  28th,  by  7:30,  our  com- 
2i;iny  moved  off  from  the  liotel  for  the  crossing  of 
Mount  Lebanon.  It  was  a strange  scene.  Our  tents 

f^and  tent-equi[)age  had  preccfled  us  oiu^  day.  Valises,  bun- 
j >dles,  etc.,  were  jxicked  in  great  sacks  and  j'ut  on  the  backs 
i of  mules.  Horses  and  mules  kicked  and  fought.  Our  mule- 
teers jabbered  and  quarreled,  carrying  on  the  wildest  gesticu- 
lation, the  most  striking  being  the  shooting  of  the  hand  and 
arm  directly  upward.  Beggars  stood  around  calling  for  “barJc- 
shish,”  while  manj’’  others  were  on  hand  with  jiretzels  and 
fruits  for  sale.  Mr.  Alexander  Howard,  under  whose  direc- 
tion the  comiiany  was  organized,  aj)i)eared  suddenly  in  the 
midst  of  the  scene.  He  is  a stout-built  native  Syrian,  who 
sjieaks  English  and  other  languages  fluently.  His  voice  soon 
brought  order  out  of  confusion.  He  s^ioke  shaiq)ly  to  some 
and  cut  others  with  a whij).  Such  loads  I never  saw  put  upon 
beasts.  The  mules  and  donkeys  were  loaded  so  heavily  that 
they  could  offer  no  resistance,  and  were  driven  off  without 
bridle  or  halter.  I thought  of  the  dying  patriarch’s  prophecy, 
when  he  said,  “Issachar  is  a strong  ass  couching  down  be- 
tween two  burdens.”  (Genesis  xlix.  14.) 

I must  introduce  the  reader  to  our  company : First,  there 
were  twelve  tourists  (names  on  page  two  hundred  and  five), 
besides  a conductor  from  London,  Mr.  Howard,  the  superin- 

285 


286 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


tendent,  an  aid-de-camp,  (the  last  two  were  with  ns  occa- 
sionall}"  throughout  the  trip,)  a dragoman,  luncheon-steward, 
two  waiters,  two  cooks  for  regular  meals  and  five  servants, 
and  twelve  muleteers, — thirtj^-eight  in  all.  We  had  sixteen 
horses,  seventeen  mules,  and  six  donkeys.  We  had  five  lodg- 
ing-tents, one  saloon  or  eating-tent,  one  kitchen,  and  two  other 
small  tents.  It  was  an  imposing  company  to  look  uj^on. 

In  traveling  through  Palestine,  some  prefer  to  depend  upon 
the  convents  and  houses'which  can  be  secured  in  the  towns 
for  places  of  lodging.  Traveling  in  this  manner  persons  go- 
ing to  a town  for  lodging  call  upon  the  sheik  of  the  town, 
who  for  a stipulated  sum  secures  a house  from  .some  family 
who  A'acates  it  for  the  night,  when  it  is  cleansed  and  washed 
out  and  made  ready  for  occupancy.  The  preferable  mode  of 
travel  is  to  carry  tents  and  equipage  with  you.  These  are  se- 
cured at  Beyroot  or  at  Joppa. 

A dragoman  is  not  only  a guide  and  superintendent,  hut 
an  interpreter  as  well.  It  is  said  that  the  word  “dragoman” 
is  derived  from  the  Chaldaic  targum, — to  explain.  The  Arabic 
“ tergem”  means  to  inteiqwet.  Originally  in  Egypt  dragomen 
were  simply  interpreters,  and  for  this  they  were  specially  edu- 
cated. Their  history  dates  back  far  beyond  the  Christian  era. 
While  under  the  general  direction  of  i\Ir.  Howard,  who  met 
us  at  different  points,  a special  dragoman,  INlr.  Ralph  Leigh- 
ton, attended  our  company  the  entire  route  through  the  land. 
He  made  our  contracts,  did  our  fighting,  — and  did  it  well 
several  times,  — and  proved  himself  worthy  of  our  confidence. 
He  is  a native-born  American,  but  has  been  a resident  of  Pal- 
estine from  childhood.  Next  to  him  were  Joseph,  an  honor- 
able old  Turk,  and  George,  a manly  Greek,  who  were  onr 
cooks.  These  two  and  another  .loseph  proved  attentive  to  our 
wants  the  entire  journey,  and  we  were  sorry  to  leave  them 
when  our  sojourn  in  tents  was  ended. 

Our  first  object  was  to  reach  Baalbec,  the  ancient  capital  of 
northern  Syria.  Passing  out  the  winding  streets  of  Beyroot, 
we  soon  entered  a fertile  and  beautiful  plain  several  miles 
wide.  On  every  hand  were  fig-trees,  green  and  beautiful. 


SYCAMORE-TREE. 


2S7 


2)alni-trees,  and  vineyards.  Before  us  rose  in  majesty  the 
tremendous  form  of  tlie  Lebanon  Mountain,  so  sacred  in 
ancient  times;  and  somehow  there  crejjt  over  my  heart  a feel- 
ing of  reverence,  which  came  unsought.  Turning  my  eye 
from  the  fertile  valh'y,  ami  stately  ^'^i-hns,  and  orchards  of 
vines  and  figs,,  and  groves  of  jiine  and  oranges  and  lemons, 
it  rested  ujwni  the  giant  form  of  a great  tree,  standing  alone 
hy  the  side  of  the  narrow  road,  the  hranclies  of  which,  jiroject- 
ing  almost  horizontally,  stretched  far  over  the  road.  'What  tree 
is  this,  the  houghs  of  which  stretch  out  from  the  trunk  close  to 
the  earth  and  almost  touch  our  heads  as  we  ride  along  the  way  ? 
It  is  a sycamore.  I see  now  why  Zaccheus  climljed  into  a syc- 
amore-tree to  see  Jesus,  a long  time  ago,  as  he  was  passing 
through  Jericho.  (Luke  xix.  4.)  It  is  exceedingly  easy  to 
climb,  and  its  branches,  reaching  directly  over  the  road,  would 
give  him  the  best  2)ossible  view  of  the  2)assing  Christ.  Here 
and  there  in  the  valley  the  eye  rests  u^jon  the  carob-tree, 
which  is  one  of  the  most  common  in  Palestine.  It  does  not 
abound  in  groves,  but  grows  singly  and  lu.xuriantly  in  various 
j)arts  of  the  country.  In  the  jdain  about  Beyroot,  on  Mount 
Olives,  and  in  various  jdaces  it  attains  good  size.  As  a 
sbade-tree  it  is  2)robably  the  best  in  the  land,  liaving  a thick 
foliage.  It  bears  a fruit  like  a bean.  The  2>ods  are  green  and 
soft,  and  from  five  to  six  inches  long.  The  kernel  is  small. 
The  entire  hull  when  dried  contains  a small  amount  of  sub- 
stance, and  is  of  a sweetish  taste.  The  fruit  is  abundant  in  the 
markets  in  Palestine  and  in  Egyjjt.  Some  of  the  j)oorest  of 
the  j)Cf>ple  eat  it,  though  it  is  the  food  for  beasts.  The  carob- 
tree  is  only  once  mentioned  in  the  Bible,  and  then  in  the  most 
touching  jiarahle  ever  uttered  by  the  lips  of  Jesus, — that  of  the 
prodigal  son.  These  pods  are  the  “ husks  that  the  swine  did 
eat.”  with  which  the  poor  j^rodigal  would  fain  have  satisfied 
his  gnawing  h\inger.  (Luke  xv.  16.)  The  original  Hebrew 
word  is  carob-pod.  Our  illustration  is  a very  truth- 

ful representation,  both  of  the  tree  and  the  fruit  with  which 
the  poor  wandering  prodigal  “ would  fain  have  filled  his 
belly.” 


288 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


CAROB-TBEE  AND  PODS. 

As  the  sun  rose  higher  above  the  crests  of  Lebanon  and 
stood  far  southward,  we  began  slowly  to  climb  the  winding 
way  up  the  steeps  of  the  mountain.  As  we  left  the  vallej*,  the 
fruitful  fields  by  the  road-side  were  changed  for  utter  barren- 
ness. Here  and  there  in  the  narrow  valleys,  or  ‘‘wadies,”  as 
they  are  called,  there  are  places  where  the  vine.s  and  trees  are 
green ; but  all  the  mountain  is  barren.  There  is  not  a tree  or 
shrub  to  be  seen  over  all  tliese  parts  of  Lebanon.  The  soil 
is  red  and  mixed  with  chi}',  and  looks  as  though  it  would  pro- 
duce well  if  it  had  rains.  It  was  being  prepared  for  seeding. 
Soon  as  the  early  rains  fall  the  entire  mountain,  except  where 
quite  too  rocky,  is  sown  in  wheat. 

By  twelve  o’clock  our  lunch-steward  halted  us  on  the  top  of 
the  mountain,  seventeen  miles  from  Beyroot,  at  “ Khan  Sofar,” 
where  there  is  a fine  spring,  and  where  we  took  lunch.  A 
khan  is  a small  house  with  a shed  or  two,  all  for  the  accom- 


OUTLOOK  FROM  IjEBANON. 


289 


moclation  of  man  and  l)oast  in  traveling;  and  men  and  beasts 
can  choose  places.  But  we  had  a good  lunch,  and  eat  heartily. 

There  were  crowds  of  natives  who  had  stoj)ped  to  Avater 
their  camels  and  donkeys;  and  company  after  company  of 
travelers  came  in  sight,  who  Avere  going  from  Damascus  to 
Beyroot.  One  eom})any  attracting  my  attention  Avas  a fam- 
ily Avhich  came  up  to  get  Avater.  It  consisted  of  a father  and 
mother  and  a goodly  number  of  children.  A family  of  chil- 
dren rode  on  a small  donkey.  On  either  side  of  the  donkey 
was  a wooden  box,  similar  to  a bee-hive,  sAvung  over  the  ani- 
mal by  a rope.  In  these  boxes  Avere  several  children,  Avhile 
two  Avere  mounted  on  the  hack  of  the  gentle  animal.  The 
mother  seemed  evidently  pleased  at  the  notice  taken  of  her 
children,  and  smiled  gracefully  at  us,  talking  a little  English. 

The  vieAV  from  the  summit  of  Lebanon  is  one  never  to  be 
forgotten.  All  about  us  Avere  the  ranges  and  peaks,  and  heloAV 
us  the  Avadies  of  Lebanon,  Avhile  far  off  to  the  Avest,  in  full 
view,  lay  the  Mediterranean,  Avhich  seemed  in  the  distance  to 
rise  like  a blue  mountain  to  the  clouds,  fading  out  into  the 
sky.  On  the  shore  in  full  sight  Avas  tlie  city  of  Beyroot,  Avhile 
all  along  the  coast  lay  the  fertile  and  beautiful  plain.  The 
entire  passage  of  the  Lebanon  Avas  a romance.  Soutlnvard 
and  to  our  right  Avas  the  peak  Jebel  el  Baruk,  and  on  the 
left  Jebel  Keneiseh,  the  latter  rising  six  thousand  six  hun- 
dred and  sixty  feet  ahoA’e  the  sea,  and  the  former  nearly  as 
high.  The  road  is  almost  six  thousand  feet  above  the  Medi- 
terranean, still  in  sight.  We  had  only  time  to  Avonder  at  the 
clouds  Avhich  flitted  by  us  and  enshrouded  us  in  tAvilight  at 
noonday,  Avhen  behold,  our  eyes  caught  far  off  to  the  front 
the  long  anti-Lebanon  mountain  ranges,  Avith  the  southern 
terminus  rising  into  the  lofty  Ilermon.  Hermon  means  de- 
struction; and  tlie  name  may  tell  something  of  the  bar- 
renness Avhicli  may  he  observed  Avhen  passing  nearer  to  it. 
From  Lebanon  it  is  a grand  sight.  Its  rocky  crest  adorned 
Avith  snoAV  and  ice  pointing  to  the  heavens,  fixes  the  eye 
and  draAvs  out  the  heart  in  Avonder  and  admiration.  Stand- 
ing for  the  first  time  in  full  view  of  the  lofty  sentinel  betAveen 

19 


290 


THE  HOLY  LASD. 


Syria  and  Palestine,  surrounded  by  the  bare  peaks  of  the  Leb- 
anon once  crowned  with  tall  cedars,  I felt  that  my  heart  was 
experiimcing  emotions  kindred  to  the  feelings  of  those  who 
thousands  of  years  ago  gathered  materials  here  for  the  build- 
ing of  the  holy  temple  of  the  Lord,  on  Mount  INIoriah ! 

Here  and  there  on  the  top  of  Lebanon  are  great  snow-houses 
cut  dee])  in  the  rocks,  prepared  for  packing  snow  in  the  winter 
to  be  used  in  the  summer  as  ice  in  adjacent  cities.  The  snow 
of  Lebanon  is  alluded  to  by  Jeremiah,  who  wrote  almost 
twenty -five  centuries  ago,  “"Will  a man  leave  the  snow  of 
Lebanon  which  cometh  from  the  rock  of  the  field.”'  (Jeremiah 
xviii.  14.)  The  melting  snows  of  Lebanon  in  those  days 
watered  the  fields  below  them  just  as  they  do  now,  and  it 
would  be  foolish  for  a man  to  leave  his  farm  thus  watered  for 
a barren  rocky  field  Avhere  there  was  no  Avater. 

But  these  lofty  ranges  of  the  Lebanon  have  seen  a grander 
day!  They  Avere  once  coA'ered  Avith  cedars  and  goodly  trees 
of  all  kinds.  Xoav  they  are  barren,  as  they  haA’e  been  for 
centuries.  Three  thousand  years  ago  these  toAvering  slopes 
resounded  Avith  the  noise  of  the  laborer  lieAving  cedar  for  the 
holy  temple  at  Jerusalem.  Hiram,  the  king  of  this  country, 
had  a league  Avith  Solomon  to  furnish  cedar  and  fir  trees,  as 
well  as  food  for  the  laborers  of  Solomon  Avhile  they  hcAved 
the  timber.  (I.  Kings  a’.  9.)  “And  King  Solomon  raised  a levy 
out  of  all  Israel  j and  tbe  leA-y  Avas  thirty  thou.«and  men.  And 
he  sent  them  to  Lebanon,  ten  thousand  a month  by  courses : 
a month  they  were  in  Lebanon,  and  tAvo  months  at  home: 
and  Adoniram  Avas  over  the  leA’y.  And  Solomon  had  three- 
score and  ten  thousand  tliat  bare  burdens,  and  fourscore  thou- 
sand hcAvers  in  the  mountains;  besides  the  chief  of  Solomon’s 
officers  Avhich  Avere  OA'er  the  Avork,  three  thousand  and  three 
hundred,  Avhich  ruled  oA’er  the  people  that  Avrought  in  the 
work.”  (I.  Kings  v.  13-16.)  Thus  long  ago  did  this  mountain 
contribute  to  the  holy  house  of  the  Lord  on  Moriah.  So 
highly  honored  Avas  the  wood  of  Lebanon  that  Solomon  made 
himself  a chariot,  or  a bed,  of  Lebanon  Avood.  (Solomon’s 
Song  iii.  9.)  Tu  tbe  time  of  Isaiah  this  mountain  must  have 


CEDARS.  291 

been  covered  with  wood;  for  when  he  ^vi^^lled  to  jirosent  the 
greatness  of  tin*  great  (lod  he  exclaims,  “Lelianon  is  not  suffi- 
cient to  burn,  nor  tlie  beasts  then'of  suflieient  for  a burnt- 
otfering.”  (Isaiah  xl.  IG.)  And  how  beautifully  tlu^  ])salmist 
})resents  the  prosperity  of  the  righteous  when  he  sa3’s,  “ He 
shall  grow  like  a eedar  in  Lebanon.’’  (Psalms  xoii.  12.) 


CEDAR  OF  LEBANON. 

XearU'  a day’s  journev  farther  north  along  the  Lebanoa 
there  are  large  groves  of  these  famous  cedars  remaining.  One 
grove  contains  three  hundred  and  fiftv  trees  grouped  closely 
together.  Thej'  are  far  up  the  mountain,  at  an  altitude  of  over 


292 


THE  HOT.Y  LAND. 


six  thousand  feet  above  the  ^lediterranean  Sea.  The  trees  are 
not  over  eighty  feet  high,  but  jiossess  heavy  trunks.  Dr. 
McCtarvey  speaks  of  them  as  follows  : “ At  a distance  of  two 

or  three  miles  they  appear  not  much  larger  than  evergreens  in 
a gentleman’s  yard.  But  as  you  api)roach  them  tliey  grow 
upon  you,  and  by  the  time  you  liave  fairly  entered  the  grove 
you  begin  to  realize  their  magnitude.  None  of  them  is  less, 
I suppose,  than  one  hundred  years  old,  and  many  of  them  are 
of  an  age  that  can  not  he-estimatcd  with  any  approach  to  ex- 
actness. Most  of  them  are  from  one  to  three  feet  in  thickness, 
but  there  are  nine  which  are  so  much  larger  and  so  nearly 
one  size  that  they  evidently  belong  to  a very  distinct  period. 
We  measured  seven  of  these  and  found  the  smallest  twenty 
feet  six  inches  in  circumference,  while  the  largest  was  thirty- 
eight  feet  and  two  inches.  These  old  trees  have  branches  near 
the  ground,  and  their  tops  have  a low-sjweading  growth,  while 
the  trunks  of  those  much  younger  grow  straight  and  tall.  A 
stone  chaj)cl  of  the  Greek  church  stands  in  the  midst  of  the 
grove,  and  in  a little  dei)ression  near  by  is  a hut  in  which 
lives  a native  whose  business  it  is  to  guard  the  trees  against 
injury.”  (“Lands  of  the  Bible,”  page  568.) 

Tlie  glory  of  Lebanon  has  not  wholly  departed.  Its  place 
in  sacred  poetry  and  history  can  never  he  destroyed.  The 
might)-  guardian  of  the  western  coast  of  Syria,  the  sister  sen- 
tinel with  llermon,  is  the  first  to  greet  the  eye  of  the  distant 
mariner,  and  even  from  the  loftier  peaks  of  Cyprus  its  brow, 
much  of  the  year  crested  with  snow,  is  visible ! It  is  a grand 
sight,  beheld  from  whatever  point  it  may  he  looked  upon. 
Slowly  and  thoughtfully  I rode  down  its  eastern  slope  by  the 
winding  way.  Before  the  eye  spreads  out  the  broad  Coele- 
Svrian  valley,  beyond  which  lifts  the  anti-Lebanon  ranges 
crowned  with  the  majestic  Hermon.  But  all  at  once  as  we 
looked  to  the  valley  below  to  a cluster  of  - green  trees  about  a 
a stream  of  water  which  gurgles  and  ripples  and  tumbles  down 
the  steeps  of  Lebanon,  we  saw  our  white  tents  awaiting  our 
arrival ! Tired  and  hungry,  we  hastened  down  the  mountain 
two  or  three  miles  to  our  first  lodging  in  the  tents. 


* 


CHAPTER  IV. 


First  Night  in  Camp — Shtora  — Heat  and  Cold  — Caravans — Riding — 
Diligence — Valley  of  Coele-Syria — Litany — Fields — View  of  Leb- 
anon— Thrashing-Floor  — Druses — Vineyards — Streams  of  Water  — 
Landmarks  — Baalbec  — Ruins — History — Haal  Worship — Wells  — 
Plateau  — Great  Stones — How  Handled  — Stone  in  Quarry — Entrance 
to  Acropolis — An  Incident  — Tunnels — Temple  of  Jupiter  — Temple 
of  the  Sun  — Sabbath  Services  in  Temple  of  tlie  Sun. 


HE  first  night  in  camp  gave  me  a new  experience. 
At  tlte  first  I entertained  some  fear.  Our  camp  was 
at  Shtora,  at  the  base  of  Lebanon,  and  on  the  west 
'side  of  the  Cmle-Syrian  valley.  I was  especially  interested 
to  know  what  provisions  were  in  camp  for  our  journey. 
Our  tents  were  comfortable,  and  of  fancy  colors  and  orna- 
mentation, while  the  American  flag  floated  from  the  top  of 
four  of  them,* and  the  English  flag  waved  over  two  of  them. 
A dinner  quite  well  prepared  was  relished  immediately  after 
so  long  a ride  in  the  saddle.  Oh,  how  hungry  I was.  Then 
as  never  before  I realized  the  truthfulness  of  the  old  adage, 
“hunger  makes  a good  cook.”  I found  that  besides  tents, 
we  were  comfortably  provided  with  a dinner- table,  chairs 
or  camp-sto(»ls,  small  stands  for  the  tent,  narrow  single  iron 
bedsteads  which  folded  up,  mattress-beds,  candles,  tin  basins, 
and  bowls,  for  tent  use.  Indeed,  we  were  well  equipped.  All 
these  things,  including  a peculiar  cooking-stove,  were  carried 
on  the  backs  of  mules  and  donkeys.  These  creatures  about 
the  camp  kept  up  at  times  such  a noise  that  it  was  difficult 
to  sleep.  Just  as  I was  fairly  down  to  writing  in  my  tent  at 
Shtora,  preparing  my  daily  sketches,  and  others  were  trying 

to  sleep,  unearthlv  bravings  broke  out  in  the  camp.  Dr. 

203 


294 


THE  HOLY  LAXf). 

Thomp^^on  from  the  tent -door  called  jocularly  to  one  of  the 
men  who  was  on  guard,  that  something  was  the  matter  Avith 
the  donkey.  One  of  the  Arab  muleteers  came  up  and  patted 
the  donkey  loA’ingly  and  stammered  out  a feAA'  English  wrnrds 
like  the  folloAA'ing:  “Good  donkey!  My  donkey  to  Yerusa- 

lem  and  Yaffil!  ” By  and  by  all  became  used  to  this  manner 
of  life. 

The  evenings  and  nights  and  mornings  Avere  cool,  inso- 
much that  I found  good  use  for  my  English  shaAvl.  About 
six  hours  of  the  day  the  Avind  came  from  the  east,  and  it  Avas 
extremely  hot.  One  almost  burns  up  under  the  A'ertical  rays 
of  the  Syrian  sun._  There  Avere  no  clouds  to  dim  its  splendor 
or  reduce  its  jioAver.  ToAvard  four  o'clock  the  Avind  Avould 
change  and  come  from  the  sea,  and  then  it  Avould  become  quite 
cool.  This  change  of  the  Avind  occurred  almost  if  not  quite 
every  day  of  our  journey  in  Palestine. 

It  Avas  Avith  nervous  emotion  that  I aro.se  from  the  first 
night’s  attempt  at  sleep  in  camp  at  the  ringing  of  a hand-bell 
and  the  strange  call  of  Josej)h  as  he  draivled  out  in  his  kindly 
AA'ay,  “ First  bell,  gentlemen  ! ’’  Everything  Avas  safe,  — men, 
camp,  horses,  donkeys,  Arabs,  and  all!  I found  that  in  keep- 
ing the  horses  the  Arabs  had  driven  iron  pins  in  the  ground 
and  stretched  ropes  parallel  to  each  other  at  a distance  of 
fifteen  or  more  feet  apart.  • To  one  of  these  ropes  t/hej'  hitched, 
by  means  of  a halter,  the  head  of  the  beast,  and  then  tied  one 
of  the  hind  legs  to  the  long  rope  running  along  behind  him. 
In  this  Avay  they  kept  the  horses  close  together,  and  from  dan- 
ger of  injuring  one  another. 

When  our  company  prepared  for  the  second  day’s  travel,  it 
Avas  very  appreciable  that  they  had  been  horseback  riding. 
It  Avas  a sore  trial  to  start  again.  But  the  dragoman  bleAV  his 
horn,  and  Joseph  called  out,  “ Horseback,  ger^tlemen ! ” and 
moved  off  like  an  engine  on  a donkey ! All  fell  in  line,  sore 
as  the  trial  Avas. 

On  the  road  Ave  met  carai^an  after  caraA^an  of  camels  and 
donkeys,  loaded  Avith  all  kinds  of  produce  from  Damascus. 
Probably  not  less  than  tAvo  hundred  or  tAvo  hundred  and  fifty 


VALLFA’  OF  CCELE-SYRIA. 


295 


camels,  and  as  many  or  more  donkeys,  were  met  in  a day. 
I never  saw  a country  where  the  dress  of  men  and  women 
is  so  nearly  alike.  It  is  often  difficult  to  tell  the  one  from 
the  other.  Then  it  was  wonderful  to  see_  how  the  people 
travel  on  these  donkeys.  One  day  I saw  a huge  man  and 
woman  riding  one  of  these  creatures  scarcely  over  two  and  a 
half  feet  high  or  three  feet  long ; also,  two  large,  hearty,  and 
})oorly-dressed  women  riding  astride  one  of  these  same  little 
creatures,  as  happy  as  a lady  in  a phaeton  in  America! 

On  our  way  crossing  Lebanon  we  met  the  diligence,  or 
stage  ninning  from  Damascus  to  Beyroot.  It  is  drawn  by  six 
horses,  working  three  abreast,  the  horse  to  the  right  being 
fastened  to  the  side  of  the  stage  to  pull  what  he  pleases.  A 
large  train  of  wagons  was  met,  loaded  with  produce  from  Da- 
mascus, to  each  of  which  three  mules  were  hitched  in  the  same 
manner.  These  wagons  carry  produce  for  rates  as  do  our  rail-. 
Avays  in  America.  The  great  trains  of  camels  and  donkeys 
do  not  travel  on  the  pike,  but  follow  the  old  road  over  rocks 
and  above  precipices,  and  up  and  down  rough,  steep  mount- 
ain-sides to  avoid  the  j^ayment  of  toll.  Between  the  Leba- 
non and  ’anti-Lebanon  mountains  lies  the  beautiful  valley  of 
Coele-Syria  (hollow  Syria).  It  is  now  usually  called  Bekaa. 
The  Amlley  is  not  less  than  twelve  miles  wide  at  many  places, 
and  is  watered  by  the  Litany,  or  Leontes,  from  Avhich  much  of 
the  valley  is  irrigated  so  as  to  be  very  productive;  yet  there 
is  no  doubt  that  in  ancient  times  it  was  vastly  more  produc- 
tive than  at  present.  The  Litany  flows  southward,  winding 
through  the  valley.  Our  second  day’s  travel  was  made  north- 
Avard  along  the  Auilley  at  the  base  of  the  Lebanon  mountain. 
After  leaving  the*  Damascus  road  aa'c  found  the  Avay,  eA^en  up 
the  Amlley,  unsuited  to  any  A'ehicle  whateA^er.  This  course 
gave  us  a grand,  vieAA'  of  the  mountains.  There  is  something 
indescribably  grand  about  this  Lebanon,  even  in  its  barren- 
ness. EA'ery  feiv  miles  fountains  break  forth  from  the  mount- 
ain far  up  its  slope  and  course  their  way  down  through  the 
valley  toAvard  the  Litany.  Toward  the  base  of  the  mountain 
by  these  streams  there  is  ahvays  to  be  found  a town. 


296 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


Along  the  streams  are  fields  which  are  cultivated.  Some 
were  preparing  for  wheat,  while  in  others  the  corn  was  just 
being  gathered  and  thrashed  out  as  in  the  time  of  David. 
At  one  place  I saw  not  less  than  fifty  men  and  women  with 
sticks  and  clubs  thrashing  the  corn  off  the  cobs  on  a thrash- 
ing-floor, which  is  nothing  more  than  a nice,  well-prepared, 
level  jjiece  of  land,  or  a great  fiat  rock.  To  piecisely  such  a 
jdace  did  David  come  Avhen  for  Ids  sin  in  numbering  Israel 
seventy  thousand  men  fell  by  pestilence ; for  the  angel  of  the 
Lord  stood  by  the  thrashing-floor  of  Oman  (or  Araunah)  as 
David  lifted  up  his  eyes.  And  upon  the  thrashing-floor  of 
Oman,  David  set  up  an  altar  to  the  Lord.  The  spot  afterward 
became  the  site  of  the  temple  built  by  Solomon.  (See  I. 
Chronicles  xxi.  14-30;  xxii.  1.)  I saw  many  of  these  thrash- 
ing-floors in  Syria  and  Pale.stine. 

The  southern  parts  of  Lebanon  and  the  anti -Lebanon 
mountains  are  occupied  by  the  Druses,  one  of  the  strangest 
of  all  the  people  of  the  Holy  Land.  They  are  cruel  to  their 
enemies,  but  are  spoken  of  as  sober  and  temperate,  despising 
the  use  of  whisky,  rum,  and  tobacco.  Their  religion  is  a 
strange  mixture  of  Christianity,  Mohammedanism,  and  pa- 
ganism. Strangers  visiting  among  them  are  treated  in  patri- 
archal style.  They  do  not  allow  polygamy,  and  their  religious 
services  are  a kind  of  social,  political,  religious  performance, 
conducted  by  the  sheik  in  secret  — no  one  being  allowed  to 
witness  them  except  the  initiated.  They  maintain  an  inde- 
pendent government,  and  number  about  one  hundred  thou- 
sand. They  are  of  Caucasian  descent,  intermingled  with 
various  tribes,  and  have  maintained  their  peculiar  existence 
as  a people  for  nearly  twelve  hundred  j’ears.  Their  complex- 
ion is  almost  white,  with  ruddy  cheeks. 

All  day  long  under  the  broiling  Syrian  sun  our  horses  crept 
along  the  beautiful  Coele- Syrian  valley  between  the  Leb- 
anon and  anti -Lebanon  mountains,  whose  white  limestone 
forms,  broken  here  and  there  by  deep  ravines,  were  patched 
on  their  summits  with  ice  and  snow.  Most  of  the  way  up 
the  valley  was  made  over  a mere  caravan  road,  though  with  a 


STREAMS  OF  WATER. 


297 


little  labor  it  could  be  made  (juite  j)assable  for  carriages. 
Now  and  then  a large  vineyard  extended  down  to  the  edge 
of  the  road,  and  a temporary  booth  stood  in  the  vineyard  to 
shelter  a watchman.  Far  away  along  the  streams  gushing 
from  the  mountains,  .stood  in  full  view  peasant  villages  sur- 
rounded with  orchards  of  oranges,  carohs,  lemons,  and  walnuts. 

All  along  these 
stn'ams  of  water 
the  trees  grow 
luxuriant  beyond 
description,  load- 
ed with  richest 
golden  fruits  and 
dressed  in  the 
most  perfect  foli- 
age. And  in  this 
did  the  psalmist 
fi  n d his  most 
beautiful  figure 
with  which  to  de^ 
scribe  the  felici- 
tous condition  of 
the  righteous. 
“He  shall  he  like 
a tree  planted  by 
the  rivers  [run- 
ning streams,  or 
channels]  of  wa- 
ter that  hringeth 
forth  his  fruit  in 
his  season ; his 
leaf  also  shall  not 
wither.”  (Psalms 
i.  3.)  So  I found  the  trees  of  Palestine  in  November,  all  along 
the  streams.  They  were  fresh  and  green  and  flourishing  as 
in  midsummer,  surrounded  by  the  dry,  barren  fields,  while 
their  fruits  burdened  the  branches. 


M4.P  OP  PALESTINE. 


298 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


There  are  no  fences  in  Palestine,  and  the  people  all  live  in 
villages.  The  lands  are  divided  by  stones,  or  landmarks, 
which  in  man}'  places  have  stood  from  time  immemorial.  It 
was  to  these  that  the  Lord  referred  when  he  gave  command- 
ment by  Moses  more  than  thirty-three  centuries  ago  saj’ing, 
“ Thou  shalt  not  remove  thy  neighbor's  landmark  which 
they  of  old  time  have  set  in  thine  inheritance.”  (Deuter- 
onomy xix.  14.)  Yet  there  is  no  doubt  that  even  now  it  is 
true,  as  Job  said,  “ Some  remove  the  landmarks  ” (-Job  xxiv. 
2),  and  there  rests  the  curse  of  God,  even  as  he  said,  “Cursed 
be  he  that  removeth  his  neighbor’s  landmark.”  (Deuteron- 
omy xxvii.  17.) 

As  the  sun  began  to  sink  toward  Lebanon,  we  crossed  the 
valley  and  hastened  toward  Baalbec,  the  ancient  capital  of 
Syria,  where  it  had  been  arranged  for  us  to  spend  the  Sab- 
bath. I reined  up  my  pony  and  found  that  he  was  ready 
for  the  chase.  After  examining  some  ruins  by  the  way,  we 
hastened  to  the  town  and  at  once  proceeded  to  explore  the  most 
wonderful  ruins  of  heathen  antiquity.  I had  read  a number 
of  descriptions  of  Baalbec,  but  had  no  adequate  conception 
of  the  bewildering,  overawing,  and  .subduing  ruins  which  were 
to  be  gazed  upon.  Our  stay  was  too  short  to  enable  any  one  to 
fully  comprehend  the  vast  structure.  This  would  require 
Aveeks  of  close  attention.  Yor  is  it  possible  to  ever  perfectly 
accomplish  this.  The  structure  evidently  belongs  to  periods 
stretching  over  thousands  of  years,  and  embracing  very  dif- 
ferent designs.  Taken  as  a Avhole,  there  are  no  ruins  on  the 
globe  which  are  to  be  compared  Avith  these ! As  in  the  soft 
moonlight  one  stands  beneath  the  six  enormous  columns  of 
the  great  teniiJe,  sixty  feet  high,  surmounted  Avith  the  lofty 
carA'ed  architrave  seA’enteen  feet  thick  he  dwindles  to  an  in- 
fant and  feels  as  if  the  mysterious  shadows  of  eternities 
were  hoA'ering  OA'er  him  ! 

Dr.  Thompson  argues  that  Baalbec  is  the  Baal -gad  men- 
tioned in  Joshua  xi.  17  and  xiii.  5,  though  Dr.  Robinson 
belieA’es  Baal-gad  to  Iuia'c  been  at  Banias  or  Caesarea  Philippi. 
Doubtless  tbe  former  vieAV  is  the  correct  one.  Others  hold  it 


BAAL-  WORSHIP. 


299 


to  bo  the  “Avon” — Bikuth  Avon — mentioned  in  Amos  i.  5. 
Aven  is  given  in  the  Septuagent  as  On — the  name  evidently 
by  'wliich  Greek  writers  sp(‘ak  of  it.  Some  have  held  that  it 
is  the  Baalath  mentioned  in  I.  Kings  ix.  17,  18,  as  being  built 
by  Solomon.  This  is  hardly  probable,  though  the  Arabs  hold 
the  tradition  that  Solomon  built  the  ancient  Baalbec.  Strabo, 
Josephus,  Pliny,  and  Ptolemy  speak  of  it  under  the  name 
lIeliopoli.s,  — City  of  the  Sun.  From  the  time  of  Solomon, 
Baalbec  was  the  head  of  Baal-worship,  and  the  seat  of  a pow- 
erful idolatrous  religion.  The  wonderful  structures  which  yet 
defy  the  ravages  of  time  were  no  doubt  rivals  of  the  splen- 
did tenijde  built  by  Solomon  on  Mount  Moriah. 

The  history  of  the  jdace  is  exceedingly  obscure.  The  splen- 
did ruins  which  now  are  looked  upon  Avith  such  wonder 
were  built  uj)on  foundations  prepared  for  other  structures 
ages  before,  and  the  stones  Avhich  now  lie  in  silent  maj- 
esty in  the  higher  parts  of  the  walls  once  n'sted  in  other 
positions.  This  is  no  doubt  the  Heliopolis  mentioned  by 
Grecian  and  Roman  hi.storians.  From  the  in.scri])tion  on  an- 
cient coin  it  is  shoAvn  that  there  Avas  a Roman  colony  here  in 
the  second  century  of  our  ei’a.  It  is  asserted  that  Antoninus 
Pius  erected  the  Temple  of  Jupiter.  There  is  no  doubt  that 
this  place  has  been  the  scene  of  great  struggles  and  persecu- 
tion ; for  here  in  the  fourth  century  Theodosius  caused  the 
erection  of  a Christian  church,  the  bare  foundation  of  Avhicb 

yet  exists.  When  Ave  consider 
the  history  of  idolatry  as  far 
as  it  incidentally  appears  in 
the  scripture  recorded  Avith 
Avhat  is  here  to  be  seen,  it  is 
hardly  possible  to  believe  that 
Avritten  hi.story  at  all  touches 
MEDALS  OF  BAAL.  the  real  history  of  this  place. 

Nearly  one  thousand  years  before  Christ  the  Avorship  of  Baal, 
Avhich  Avas  identical  Avith  the  Avorshiji  of  the  sun,  stole  doAvn 
from  the  north  as  Avell  as  from  the  east  upon  Israel  under 
the  king.s.  Israel  lying  north  of  .Judah  soonest  and  most 


300 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


sadly  fell  tlie  victim  of  idolatry  from  contact  with  its  neigh- 
bors. At  that  early  j)eriod  Baal-worship  must  have  had  in 
some  portion  of  this  northern  -country  a center  of  influence 
and  power.  Whoever  walks  about  the  Acropolis  at  Baalbec 
will  be  made  to  think  that  he  is  at  that  center.  Portions  of 
the  structures,  the  ruins  of  which  are  here  .so  well  j^reserved, 
no  doubt  were  erected  by  the  Romans  in  the  second  centurv. 
But  there  are  evidences  that  other  j^arts  are  of  much  greater 
antiquity. 

The  sul)struction,  or  wall  surrounding  the  Acropolis,  on 
which  were  built  the  ancient  temples,  is  itself  in  some  re- 
spects more  wonderful  than  the  pyramids  of  Egypt.  This 
elevated  inchjsnre  is  nearly  one  thousand  feet  long  from  east 
to  west,  and  six  hundred  feet  broad.  This  great  ])latform  of 
masonry  varies  from  fifteen  to  thirty  feet  in  height.  At  the 
east  once  stood  a magnificent  flight  of  steps  entering  into 
this  elevation  through  a portico  one  hundred  and  forty  feet 
long.  The  whole  jdateau  is  surrounded  by  a wall  much 
higher  than  the  level  within,  so  that  the  wall  on  the  outside  is 
almost  sixty  feet  high.  This  massive  structure  is  composed  of 
dressed  stone,  laid  without  mortar,  Avhieh  range  from  twelve 
to  thirty  feet  in  length,  and  nine  feet  broad  and  six  feet  thick. 
In  the  west  end  of  this  wall  lie  three  stones,  probably  the 
largest  ever  placed  in  any  structure  by  the  hand  of  man. 
They  lie  in  the  wall  at  the  height  of  about  twenty  feet  from 
the  ground ; and  lying  end  to  end  against  each  other  they 
measure,  one  stone  sixty-two  feet  long,  another  sixty-three 
feet  and  a half,  and  another  si.xty-four  feet  long,  all  thirteen 
feet  high  and  jirobably  more  than  that  in  thickness.  How 
these  ponderous  blocks  of  stone  were  quarried  and  put  into 
position  in  the  Avail  ivill  j)robably  forever  remain  a mystery. 
From  anything  the  world  now  knoivs  of  the  use  of  mechanical 
powers  in  the  past  ages  or  at  the  present,  it  ap^iears  almost  a 
miracle.  But  no  matter  how  or  by  whom  placed  in  their  po- 
sitions, there  they  lie  in  their  ponderous  weight.  It  seems 
probable  that  their  history  goes  back  more  tlian  a thousand 
years  before  Christ,  probably  to  the  time  of  the  erection  of  the 


STOXE  IX  THE  QUARRY. 


301 


pyramids  or  the  Kgy})tiuii  obelisks.  They  are  dressed  at  the 
edges  Avith  such  precision  that  it  is  exceedingly  difficult  to 
tell  Avhere  the  joints  really  are.  Though  they  have  lain  there 
thousands  of  years,  upon  climbing  uj)  to  them  I found  it  im- 
possible at  any  place  to  insert  even  the  shar{)e.st  point  of  a 
pocket-knife  in  tlu'  joints  where  they  join  each  other.  These 
stones  were  quarried  a distance  of  half  a mile  and  by  some 
moans  removed  to  their  })resent  resting-place.  Any  one  of 
these  three  stones  would  weigh  over  a thousand  tons.  A recent 
writer  has  supposed  that  a road  Avas  constructed  on  a level 
from  the  quarry  to  their  place  in  the  Avail,  and  the  stones 
placed  on  rollers  and  pulled  by  men  by  a great  rope.  If 
tAventy  men  could  pull  a stone  Aveighing  one  ton,  then  tAventy 
thou.sand  men  might  have  j)ulled  one  of  these  stones.  This 
is  mere  conjecture,  as  there  are  no  traces  indicating  the  man- 
ner of  their  removal. 

A half  mile  from  the  Aci’opolis,  in  the  quarry,  lies  unused 
a stone  still  larger  than  either  jdaced  in  the  Avail.  Our  com- 

panj'  measured 
it  carefully,  and 
found  its  di- 
mensions as  fol- 
loAvs : Length, 

sixty-eight  feet 
tAVO  inches; 
height,  fourteen 
feet;  Avidth  at 
top,  thirteen 
feet  eight  inch- 
e s ; Av i d t h at 
bottom,  seA’en- 
teen  feet  seven 
and  one  half 

STONE  IN  THE  QHAKRY,  BAALBEC.  • 1 „ T J. 

inches.  it 

Aveighs  about  fifteen  hundred  tons,  and  is  large  enough  to 
make  almost  four  of  the  Egyptian  obelisks,  such  as  stands  in 
Central  Park,  New  A'ork.  It  is  Avell  dressed,  though  not  en- 


302 


THE  HOT.Y  LAND. 


tirely  severed  from  tlie  rock  at  the  bottom,  and  lies  exposed  at 
an  angle  of  about  twenty  degrees.  It  was  no  doubt  intended 
for  the  wall ; and  why  it  was  not  placed  there,  since  the  others 
were  so  handled,  being  only  a little  larger,  1 can  not  tell. 
Probably  some  enemy  came  on  the  nation  and  stopped  the 
work  for  generations,  and  the  art  of  handling  such  stones  was 
meantime  lost.  The  wall  shows  evidently  that  it  has  been 
erected  at  difierent  and  succeeding  periods.  The  entire  struct- 
ures at  Baalbec  look  as  if  it  required  a thousand  years  to  erect 
them. 

m 

The  original  entrance  through  the  i)ortico,  already  men- 
tioned, on  the  east  was  into  a great  court,  hexagon  in  shape, 
one  hundred  and  ninety-five  feet  long  and  about  two  hundred 
and  fifty  wide,  from  angle  to  angle.  From  this  court  were 
vast  entrances  to  the  still  greater  court,  in  the  western  end  of 
which  stand  the  two  great  temples.  This  court  is  about  four 
hundred  and  forty  feet  long  ami  three  hundred  and  sixty  feet 
wide.  The  numerous  niches  for  the  gods  and  the  wonderful 
carvings  of  colossal  figures  and  designs  which  form  the  adorn- 
ments of  the  courts  it  is  impossible  to  describe.  Carvings  and 
figures  in  the  massive  rock  seem  to  have  been  thrown  about  as 
with  some  magic  power  and  art. 

]\Iy  first  vi.fit  to  this'seeneof  wonder  was  obtained  by  climb- 
ing over  a broken  jilace  in  the  north-east  part  of  the  wall. 
After  several  hours’  observation,  reading,  and  study,  I un- 
dertook to  go  out  into  the  little  town  again,  clambering 
over  the  .‘^ame  great  stones  in  the  broken-down  section  of  the 
wall,  (retting  safely  down,  I saw  a path  leading  through  a 
garden,  and  choosing  that  I sought  the  narrow  street  across 
the  stream.  I had  just  got  out  of  the  garden  into  the  nar- 
row lane,  when  passing  a house  standing  on  my  right  I turned 
to  look  at  the  few  persons  saunt<*ring  about  the  door,  when  a 
horrible  sight  met  my  eyes.  A great  brawny  Arab  woman, 
standing  about  twenty-five  or  thirty  feet  from  me,  held  a gun 
in  her  hands  jiointing  at  me,  ready  to  fire.  I was  just  a little 
scared.  I spoke  sharply  and  quickly  at  her — for  I could  not 
speak  to  her,  having  learned  no  Arabic  words  suitable  to  such 


TEMPLE  OF  JUPITER. 


303 


;m  eiuergoncy.  I tried  to  think  up  the  few  Arabic  plirases  I 
knew  ; but  tliey  would  not  do,  so  I gave  her  good,  pure,  strong 
English.  -lust  in  the  nick  of  time  some  of  the  men  and 
women  who  were  standing  by  the  dwelling  and  within  a few 
feet  of  the  woman  with,  the  gun  put  in  a plea  for  me  and 
induced  her  not  to  shoot,  one  of  them  removing  the  gun  from 
her  hand.  I felt  more  freedom  to  talk  then,  hut  at  once  con- 
cluded that  Avisdom  dictated  my  departure  from  that,  place. 
How  (luickly  I got  around  the  next  corner  it  would  he  diffi- 
cult to  overestimate.  Having  mad('  my  escai)c,  I at  first  con- 
templated reporting  the  affiiir  to  the  sheik  of  the  town;  hut 
remembering  the  great  disadvantage  I should  be  under  before 
such  a court  as  he  would  summon,  I resolved  to  keejA  clear  of 
that  i>lace  in  the  future.  When  the  sliadows  of  the  Avorld- 
renowned  ruins  and  idol-tem])les  of  Baalbec  fall  in  memoiy 
over  me  in  the  years  to  come  the  horrid  picture  of  that  Arab 
woman  Avith  gun  pointing  at  me  Avill  stand  b(*fore  me. 

The  next  entrance  Ave  made  to  the  ruins  of  l>aall)ec  Avas  on 
horseback,  going  through  one  of  the  great  A-aulted  pas.sages 
Avhich,  like  a railway  tunnel,  passes  under  the  Avail  and  admits 
to  the  great  Acropolis.  Several  persons  could  ride  side  by  side 
in  these  tunnels  if  the  stone  and  debris  Avere  removed.  The 
arches  are  of  Homan  origin,  Avhile  the  foundation,  or  loAver 
part,  belongs  to  an  earlier  period.  These  ])assages,  Avith  seA'eral 
side-chambers,  are  used  as  stables  by  the  shepherds,  who  drive' 
their  sheep  into  them  at  night  for  protection  from  Avild  boasts 
and  thieves.  They  are  .several  hundred  feet  long.  Though  I 
Avas  at  first  much  interested  in  looking  at  the  arch  and  Avails 
and  Latin  in.scrii)tion.s,  the  dust  and  dr}’  atmosphere  soon  so 
choked  me  that  it  Avas  a great  relief  to  get  out  of  it.  There 
are  tAvo  of  tlu'sc^  great  tunnels,  intersected  by  a cros.s-passage 
of  the  same  kind. 

In  the  Avestern  part  of  the  plateau  surrounded  by  these 
great  Avails  stood  the  Avonderful  Temple  of  .Tupiter,  It  is  so 
destroyed  that  it  is  impossible  to  tell  just  Avhat  its  form  really 
Avas.  There  are  six  huge  columns  standing,  Avhich  are  oA'er 
sixty  feet  in  height,  Avith  base  and  capitals  of  the  Corinthian 


304 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


order.  These  columns  are  of-  yellowish  stone,  and  in  three 
sections.  We  measured  them  carefully  and  found  their  diam- 
eter to  be  seven  feet  eight  inches.  The  architrave,  with  cor- 
bels, molding,  and  cornice,  is  not  less  than  seventeen  feet 
high.  These,  mounted  upon  great  round  columns  sixty  feet 
high,  present  a view  of  hugeness  which  awes  one  into  rever- 
ence. The  world  to-day  has  no  appliance  of  mechanical  power 
adequate  to  the  removal  or  placing  of  stones  of  such  size  to 
such  positions.  All  about  in  awful  piles  of  ruins  lie  numbers 
of  these  columns  broken,  and  sometimes  half  buried  or  juled 
one  upon  another  by  eartlnpiakes,  telling  the  story  of  their 
wrecked  grandeur.  Originally  there  were  nineteen  of  these 
columns  on  each  side  of  the  temple,  and  ten  at  each  end. 

The  Temple  of  the  Sun,  though  smaller  by  three  times  than 
that  of  Jupiter,  and  entirely  unconnected,  standing  southward 
from  it  and  forming 'a  distinct  temple  in  the  Acropolis,  is 
the  most  perfect  of  all  the  ruins  of  Baalbec,  and  except  the 
Temple  of  Theseus  at  Athens,  tlie  best  preserved  of  all  ancient 
temples.  Its  marl)le  columns  are  nearly  fifty  feet  high,  hav- 
ing fifteen  on  each  side  and  eight  at  each  end,  with  a double 
row  of  columns  in  the  portal,  the  inner  of  which  is  fluted. 
The  carving  of  the  capitals  is  very  exquisite.  And  though 
most  of  it  is  some  way  despoiled,  one  or  two  capitals  have 
their  carvings  of  scroll  and  leaves  perfect  as  made  not  less 
than  fifteen  centuries  ago.  The  pillars  about  and  above  the 
door  and  the  interior  of  the  temple  show  the  designs  of  fruit 
and  images  well  represented  in  marl)le.  The  walls  of  the 
temple  stand  entire,  though  some  of  the  columns  and  part 
of  the  peristyle  have  fallen  down  in  ruins.  The  entire  length 
on  the  outside,  including  porticos  and  columns,  is  two  hun- 
dred and  twenty-five  feet,  and  its  width,  including  colonnades 
on  each  side,  about  one  hundred  and  twenty  feet.  The  tem- 
ple inside  the  colonnades  and  front  portico  is  one  hundred 
and  sixty  by  eighty -five  feet.  The  interior  was  divided  into 
two  parts.  The  larger,  and  that  first  entered  from  the  east,  is 
ninety  feet  by  sixty-seven.  At  the  Avest  end  thirty-six  feet 
Avere  cut  off  as  a sanctum,  or  holy  place,  and  the  floor  of  this 


20 


306 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


part  was  about  five  feet  higher  than  that  of  the  celhi  or  larger 
room.  Portions  of  an  arch  and  columns  indicate  the  division 
of  the  temple  in  these  parts.  The  carvings  are  rich  and  mar- 
velous in  design,  and  the  whole  building  is  literally  loaded 
down  with  all  that  the  Corinthian  style  of  architecture  could 
possibly  have  placed  upon  it.  The  illustration  shows  the 
entrance  to  the  temple  and  the  marvelous  work  of  art.  One  of 
the  center  stones  has  fallen  partly  down,  as  will  be  observed, 
and  is  supported  in  its  present  position  by  a pillar  recently 
erected  for  that  purpose.  There  are  no  windows  or  openings 
whatever  in  the  wall,  and  no  provision  for  lighting  the  temple. 
Whether  it  was  covered  with  a roof  is  much  questioned, 
many  good  authorities  holding  that  it  had  none.  From  old 
coins,  as  well  as  from  mortises  over  the  pilasters  on  the  inner 
side  of  this  wall,  it  would  seem  that  it  was  once  covered  with 
a roof  which  centuries  ago  had  fallen  in. 

Baalhec  is  situated  almost  on  the  water-shed  of  S3’ria.  A 
few  miles  to  the  north  the  waters  forming  the  Orontes  flow 
northward,  while  the  Litany,  rising  in  the  same  plain,  winds 
southward.  Well-cultivated  gardens  surround  the  ancient 
ruins.  Only  a remnant  of  the  ancient  wall  surrounding  the 
town  remains.  There  are  other  ruins  of  small  temples  about 
Baalhec,  but  they  are  unimportant.  Some  of  the  most  inter- 
esting are  upon  the  heights  east  of  the  town,  from  which  a 
splendid  view  of  the  whole  valley  is  to  be  obtained. 

Our  camp  was  pitched  within  the  walls  of  the  Acropolis 
over  Sabbath,  October  30th.  At  3 : 00  p.  M.  on  Sabbath  our 
compan}’,  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  William  Chapin,  of  Providence, 
Rhode  Island,  who  were  passing  the  day  there,  met  in  the 
hoh'  place  in  the  Temple  of  the  Sun  to  worship  the  true  God. 
A number  of  Arabs  stood  off  at  a distance  and  looked  on  with 
wonder,  while  others  interrupted  us  for  a time  by  hallooing 
and  climbing  around  on  the  top  of  the  old  walls.  By  request 
the  writer  preached  a short  discourse  from  the  words,  “And  he 
put  down  the  idolatrous  priests?,  whom  the  kings  of  Judah 
had  ordained  to  burn  incense  in  the  high  places  in  the  cities 
of  Judah,  and  in  the  places  round  about  Jerusalem;  them 


SABBA  TH-SER  VICES. 


307 


also  that  burned  incense  unto  Baal,  to  the  sun,  and  to  the 
moon,  and  to  the  planets,  and  to  all  the  host  of  heaven”  (II. 
Kings  xxiii.  5)  ; and,  “llis  name  shall  be  continued  as  long 
as  the  sun  : and  men  shall  be  blessed  in  him  : all  nations  shall 
call  him  blessed.”  (Psalms  Ixxii.  17.)  I had  a l>roken  col- 
umn of  the  temple,  in  which  Baal  was  once  enshrined  with 
awful  pomp,  for  a pulpit  on  which  to  place  the  Bible.  The 
old  walls,  fifteen  centuries  ago  accustomed  to  the  honors  of 
Baal,  eehoed  with  the  simplest,  purest  statements  of  gospel 
truth  I could  command  under  such  surroundings.  The  com- 
2)any  heard  the  word  with  attention.  I believe  God  heard 
our  prayers  and  songs,  as  we  thought  of  him,  of  his  Son, 
of  his  church,  of  the  brethren,  and  of  our  loved  ones  far 
aw'ay,  and  there  set  up  the  claims  and  honor  of  the  eternal 
Name  above  Baal.  God  has  given  the  wilter  no  higher  honor 
than  the  privilege  of  preaching  Christ  even  in  the  great  Tem- 
ple of  the  Sun  in  Syria.  While  the  altar  of  Baal  here  has 
long  fallen  from  the  devotion  of  men,  and  the  temple  which 
enshrined  it  lifts  up  over  the  wreck  of  ages  the  boldest  ruins, 
the  divine  Christ  endures,  and  his  person,  his  love,  and  his 
life  are  being  enshrined  more  and  more  in  the  devotions, 
hearts,  and  lives  of  millions  of  living  spiritual  temples,  where 
they  shall  live  across  the  eternities.  Every  day  of  our  travel 
here  heightened  our  admiration  for  the  Bible  and  its  illus- 
trious character  and  marvelous  record. 


CHAPTER  V. 


A 


Leaving  Baalbec  — Last  View  — Valley  of  the  Orontes  — Crossing  Anti- 
Lebanon — Tomb  of  Noalf — Abana — Xaainan  — View  of  Damascus  — 
Surrounding  Plain  — Hotel  — Eastern  House — Population  of  Damas- 
cus— Houses  of  Damascus — Bricks — Walls — Court  of  Oriental  House 
— Divan  — Bazaars  — Costumes. 


camp  in  tlio  ruins  of  Baalhee.  Tliis  was  successfully 
(lone;  and  the  company  also  was  grouped  on  broken  col- 
umns  in  the  Temj)le  of  the  Sun,  where  it  was  again 
j photogniphed  together  with  these  ruins  as  a background. 

But  the  time  of  sojourn  under  the  shadow  of  these  skeletons 
of  idol-temples  was  soon  over.  A little  after  eight  o’clock  we 
were  in  the  saddle.  Our  train  moved  slowly  through  the  vault 
leading  out  of  the  ruins  of  the  Acropolis  under  the  Avail,  and 
we  turned  our  faces  southAvard.  Outside  the  toAvn  another 
vieAV  Avas  taken  of  the  great  quarry  and  the  huge  stone  lying 
there,  and  then  Ave  directed  our  course  doAvn  the  Valley  of 
Bekaa. 

Turning  to  get  the  last  A'iew  of  the  ruins  of  the  idol-tem- 
ples, far  beyond  I caught  a sjAlendid  vieAv  of  the  upper  valley 
through  which  runs  the  Orontes  nortlnvard ; to  the  Avest  rose 
the  grand  Lebanon  mountains  with  their  lofty  and  auburn 
]ieaks,  here  and  there  dotted  Avith  snoAV ; to  the  right  lay  the 
beautiful  A’alley  of  Syria,  through  Avhich  floAvs  the  Litany. 
Then  I turned  my  face  toward  Damascus,  beyond  the  anti- 
Lebanon  mountains.  With  a good-by  to  the  ancient  home  of 
idols  AA'e  climbed  one  spur  after  another  of  the  anti-Lebanon 
mountains,  up  gi’eat  heights  and  aboA'e  precipices  of  alarming 


morning,  October  31st,  an  artist 


308 


OUR  CAMP  at  BAALBEC. 


THE  ABANA. 


309 


depths.  This  mountain  uas  once  tlironged  with  idol-worshi]v 
ers  and  places  of  idolatrous  service.  For  two  days  and  a half 
our  course  lay  in  a south-ea.sterly  direction.  At  night  we  had 
good  camping-2)laces ; and  though  the  way  through  the  mount- 
ain pass  often  lay  over  great  rocks,  all  got  over  safely.  Two 
of  our  company  were  thrown  from  their  horses  hy  their  fall- 
ing. but  were  not  hurt,  and  one  mule  ui>set  to  the  injury 
of  some  of  our  l)aggage.  On  tlie  way  we  passed  the  Moham- 
medan tomb  of  Noah.  It  is  inclosed  in  a rude  building  of 
stone  walls.  The  tomb  is  about  one  hundn>d  and  thirty  feet 
long,  and  live  or  six  feet  wide  at  the  bottom.  After  a base  of 
about  one  foot  in  height  it  slopes  up  to  a sharp  edge.  About 
balf  the  tomb  was  covered  with  handkerchiefs  of  cotton  and 
silk,  Avhile  lamps  of  olive-oil  are  kept  burning  day  and  night. 
I had  never  expected  to  see  the  tond)  of  Noah,  or  bedew  Avith 
tears  the  memory  of  my  ancestor,  Avhom  a Avorld  of  waters 
could  not  droAvn.  Through  the  mountains  pretty  cascades 
and  green  valleys  along  tumbling  streams  of  clear,  cool  Avater 
greeted  our  eyes  and  ears  Avith  goodly  cheer. 

The  second  day  Ave  came  to  the  river  Barada, — as  it  is  noAv 
often  called  here, — the  Ahana  of  the  Bible  record,  Avhich  Na- 
aman  preferred  to  the  Jordan.  At  uf>on  on  Tuesday  our  com- 
pany took  lunch  on  the  green  banks  of  this  delightful  stream. 
It  is  about  fifteen  feet  Avide  and  eight  feet  deep,  Avhile  its  cur- 
rent is  sAvift  and  strong.  Its  banks  are  fertile  and  green, 
making  rare  beauty  in  a dry  and  desolate  land.  Several  of 
our  company  took  a bath  in  the  .Vbana,  but  I Avas  content  to 
bathe  my  hands  Avell.  Some  of  the  hor.ses  bounded  in,  and 
but  for  the  assistance  rendered  by  the  touri.sts  our  lunch- 
steward's  beast  would  probably  have  been  left  a monument  or 
pillar  of  bones  in  the  mire  of  its  banks.  But  the  river  is 
beautiful,  and  in  its  crystal  Avaters  play  multitudes  of  fishes. 
On  its  banks  close  to  us  Avas  a camp  of  Bedouin.s,  almost  as 
black  as  the  African,  who  seemed  not  to  take  any  fancy  to 
our  company,  not  even  alloAving  their  dogs  to  eat  the  chicken- 
bones  Ave  threAv  across  the  stream  to  them.  They  had  large 
flocks  of  goats  and  cattle.  This  stream  is  one  of  the  glories 


310 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


<)f  Syria,  and  Hows  down  from  the  mountains  through  narrow 
valleys  until  it  enters  the  great  plain  near  Damascus.  All 
along  its  hanks  are  tall,  beautiful  ])oplar  trees,  with  here 
and  there  fruits  — apricots  and  grapes.  It  furnishes  the  sup- 
ply of  water  for  Damascus.  In  the  plain  a distance  from  the 
city,  it  is  divided  into  a number  of  streams.  Three  of  these 
are  used  to  irrigate  the  land  and  two  to  furnish  water  for 
the  city.  Many  of  the  courts  of  the  houses  are  .supplied 
with  water  from  the  Ahana.  The  plains  have  given  to  them 
their  wonderful  fertility  by  the  streams  and  channels  leading 
from  it.  These  facts  readily  showed  to  me  why  Xaaman  was 
so  proud  of  his  own  ‘‘Rivers  of  Damascus,”  and  in  haughti- 
ness turned  from  the  Prophet  Elisha,  in  anger  exclaiming, 
“ Are  not  Ahana  and  Pharpar,  rivers  of  Damascus,  better  than 
all  the  waters  of  Israel?  may  I not  wash  in  them  and  l)c 
clean?”  (II.  Kings  v.  12.)  The  .Iordan  empties  into  the 
Dead  Sea,  and  its  waters  are  muddy  and  a])parently  unclean. 
The  waters  of  Ahana  are  crystal  in  clearness,  and  make  the 
desert  plain  a fruitful  garden,  and  cause  a fountain  to  sparkle 
in  almost  every  dwelling  in  Damascus.  M’ith  these  views 
Naaman  was  quite  right  in  his  estimate,  leaving  (lod  out  of 
the  question. 

A little  more  than  two  days  out  from  Baalbec  brought  us  to 
the  fountains  of  Fijeh.  This  El  lujeh  is  the  great  supply  of 
water  emptying  into  the  Ahana.  The  spring  is  a volume  of 
water  like  a river  bursting  out  from  beneath  great  rocks.  The 
structure  of  Avails  indicates  that  at  some  remote  time  there  Avas 
an  arch  and  probably  a temple  to  the  gods  here. 

After  two  and  a half  days’  hard  riding  through  the  Avildest 
mountain  scenery,  and  along  the  Ahana,  Ave  at  last  stood  on 
.lebel  Kasiun,  an  imniense  hill  or  mountain  (.lebel  is  the 
Arabic  for  mountain)  just  aboA'e  the  plain  of  Damascus,  Avhile 
in  the  splendor  of  the  noon-day  sun  there  lay  in  beautiful 
A'ieAV  before  us  the  “ Pearl  of  the  East,”  Damascus,  the  oldest 
city  in  the  Avorld.  It  is  a grand  A’ieAv,  like  Avhich  there  is 
none  in  all  Syria.  The  valley  is  fertile,  and  its  vast  orchards 
and  gardens  along  the  river,  spreading  out  on  eA’erj’  side, 


811 


312 


THE  HOLY  LAXD. 


presented  a scene  on  which  tlie  eye.  accustomed  for  days  to 
look  on  rocks,  clay,  or  chalk-hills  and  mountains,  longs  to 
feast.  The  Mohammedans  assert  that  it  ^Yas  to  this  hill  that 
Mohammed  came  and  then  turned  hack  hecause  he  did  not 
wish  yet  to  enter  into  paradise.  If  a beautiful  jrlain  and 
watered  gardens  and  green  fruitful  orchards  make  up  the 
Mohammedan  idea  of  heaven,  then  this  site  in  barren  Syria 
is  their  paradise.  The  Mohammedans  also  have  a tradition 
tluit  Abel  was  here  murdered  by  Cain,  and  concealed  in  a 
bloody  cave.  The  redness  of  the  rocks  ])ossibly  gave  the  tra- 
dition that  they  were  colon-d  with  his  blood.  It  is  also 
believed  that  Adam  and  Eve  lived  here.  And  here  they 
assert  Ahraliam  received  the  idea  and  revelation  of  the  exist- 
ence of  one  God.  No  doubt  the  enchanting  view  afforded 
from  this  lu'ight  gave  rise  to  these  traditions. 

North-eastward  as  far  as  the  eye  can  ])enc‘trate  there  is  this 
vast  plain  with  its  orchards  of  citron,  orange,  apricot,  tig,  and 
})omegranate  trees,  skirted  with  walnuts  and  poplars  and 
palms.  Northward  a few  miles,  in  the  mountains,  in  full 
sigiit,  was  Hohah,  where,  “on  tlie  left  hand  of  Damascus,” 
Abraham  with  his  three  hundred  and  idglitcen  chosen  serv- 
ants ceased  to  pursue  the  armies  of  Chcdorlaomer  of  Elam 
and  his  confederate's.  Here  he  recovert'd  his  ca})tive  nephew 
Lot  and  his  goods  with  all  the  jerisoners,  both  men  and 
women  and  goods  which  had  been  captured  in  Sodom  and 
Gomorrah.  (Genesis  xiv.  15.)  Though  almost  forty  slow  cen- 
turies have  passed  since  this  hero  of  faith  and  hero  of  battles 
wrought  this  victory  here,  these  mountains  stand  as  their,  just 
in  front  of  Damascus,  the  city  whose  Idstory  in  part  is  known 
for  four  thousand  years,  with  its  narrow  strec'ts,  its  gardens 
and  orchards,  and  its  numerous  domes  and  minarets  of  Mo- 
hammedan moscpies.  Far  as  the  eye  could  scan,  the  fertile 
plain  extended,  converted  from  the  veriest  desert,  by  the  life- 
giving  waters  of  the  Ahana,  whose  clianiu'ls  and  streams,  led 
in  every  direction,  after  performing  their  mission  of  irrigation 
sink  into  the  Lakes  of  the  Meadow,  eighteen  miles  east  of 
Damascus. 


OR  TEXT  A L HOTEL. 


313 


Southward  from  the  city  in  the  plain  is  the  way  over  which 
Saul  of  Tarsus  came  down  proud,  defiant,  and  “breathing  out 
threateniugs  and  slaughter  against  tlie  disciples  of  the  Lord,” 
with  “letters  to  Damascus  to  the  synagogues,  that  if  he  found 
any  in  this  way,  whether  they  were  men  or  women,  he  might 
bring  them  bound  unto  Jerusalem.”  There  “about  noon, 
suddenly  there  shone  from  heaven  a great  light  round  about” 
the  persecutor  of  Jesus.  Fartlier  to  the  right  and  directly 
southward  in  full  view  stand  the  lofty  peaks  of  Hermon.  An 
hour  too  quickly  sjicd  away  as  I stood  on  Jebel  Kasiun  ; ami 
weary  with  six  day’s  of  camp -life,  and  hard  travel  over 
mountain  paths,  our  company,  exchanging  congratulations, 
rode  down  the  stee])  cuts  in  the  red  rocks,  cro.-^sed  the  plain, 
entered  the  gates  of  Damascus,  and  followed  its  streets  paved 
with  round,  smooth  stones.  Dr.  Thompson’s  horse  slip})ed 
and  fell  headlong,  throwing  the  di)ctor  many  feet  on  the  hard 
stones.  Foi’tunately  he  got  up  unhurt!  \Ve  alighted  from 
our  horses  in  front  of  a great  massive  door,  in  which  was 
opened  a small  door,  two  feet  Avide  and  alxmt  four  feet  high, 
through  which  we  crept  one  at  a time,  and  found  ourselves 
in  a splendid  court  of  an  oriental  dwelling.  Mosaic  floors,  a 
great  marble  basin  of  fresh  water,  thirty  feet  long,  ten  feet 
wide,  and  three  deep,  rising  nearly  two  feet  above  the  rich 
})avement,  met  our  ej'es.  .Vbout  us  in  the  court,  probably 
sixty  feet  square,  grew  oranges  and  lemons  in  full  fruitage. 
For  a few  days,  camp- life  Avas  exchanged  for  this  pleasant 
place.  Thoughts  turned  upAvard  in  thanksgiving  to  God  for 
his  protecting- hand  amid  the  many  dangers  of  the  Avay.  The 
imagination  quickened  at  the  anticipation  of  Avhat  Avas  before 
me.  Mr.  HoAvard,  who  had  come  directly  from  Ilcyroot  to 
Damascus  to  meet  the  company,  handed  me  seA’cral  letters 
from  far-off  home  and  IovimI  ones  ! Does  the  i-eader  Avonder 
if  a tear  stole  to  the  eye  as  tlie  hand  broke  the  seal  Avhich  I 
kncAV  had  been  fastened  a month  before  by  loving  hands  I 
had  not  elapsed  for  long  and  anxious  months? 

Damascus  is  the  most  thoroughly  oriental  city  of  its  size  in 
the  Avorld.  No  European  architect  lias  infringed  upon  the 


314 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


ancient  manners  of  building,  and  no  -western  habits  of  life 
have  intermingled  with  the  customs  of  this  oriental  people 
which  have  come  down  through  tlie  centuries  long  j)ast. 

The  population  of  Damascus  is  variously  given,  l)ut  is 
probably  not  far  from  one  linndred  and  twenty-five  thousand. 
Most  of  tliese  are  Mohammedans,  though  tlu>re  are  a few  Jews, 
Greeks,  and  Catholic  Cliristians,  and  a feAv  Protestant  Chris- 
tians. It  is  the  great  iMohammedan  center  of  jaiwer  in  Syria. 
The  streets  are  tridy  oriental — narrow,  crooked,  and  curious, 
with  vcalls  shutting  many  of  the  residences  and  garckms  from 
public  view.  The  roofs  of  the  houses  are  mostly  Hat,  and  of 
earth,  as  are  all  the  houses  of  Syria. 

The  houses  are  largely  built  of  sun-dried  bricks,  tbough 
some  of  the  buildings  are  of  stf»ne  aird  marble,  and  jua^sent  a 
moderately  pleasing  external  ajipearanca*.  Tlie  l)ricks  used  in 
Syria,  Palestine,  and  Egypt  ar(>  of  this  soft  kind  dried  in  the 
Sau.  A cliannel  or  ditch  is  cut  in  the  ground,  aud  in  it 
mud,  water,  aud  straw  are  tramped  together  by  persons  who 
wade  back  and  forth  in  the  trough.  The  straw  was  used  in 
this  same  manner  in  ancient  times  in  the  making  of  brick.  In 
the  time  of  the  atHietion  and  sorrow  of  Israel  in  Egyj)t,  more 
than  thirty-three  centurie.s*  ago,  “the  officers  of  the  children 
of  Israel  came  and  cried  unto  Pharaoh,  saying,  Whejefore 
dealest  thou  thus  with  thy  servants?  There  is  no  straw  given 
unto  thy  servants,  and  they  say  to-  us,  Malvc  brick:  and, 
behold,  thy  servants  are  beaten,” — for  Pharaoh  and  the  task- 
masters had  .said,  “ 1 will  not  give  you  straw.  Go  ye,  get  you 
straw  where  ye  can  find  it.”  To  this  just  plea  of  the  officers 
of  Israel,  who  were  slaves  at  this  most  menial  toil.  Pharaoh 
cruelly  answiwed,  “Ye  are  idle,  ye  are  idle.  * * * * (P)  there- 
fore now,  and  work  ; for  there  shall  no  straw  lie  givtui  you,  yet 
shall  ye  deliver  the  tale  of  bricks.”  (Exodus  v.  ld-18.)  The 
straw  is  used  to  cause  the  mud  to  adhere  together.  The  mud 
is  then  molded  into  lirick,  about  an  inch  and  a half  thick 
and  five  or  six  inches  wide  and  eight  or  ten  inches  long,  and 
laid  out  in  the  sun  to  dry. 

In  many  places  houses  are  Imilt  of  these  mud-brick  by  lay- 


COURT  OF  HOUSE. 


315 


ing  them  directly  upon  the  ground,  without  any  foundation 
beneath  them.  Where  this  is  the  case  they  are  very  liable  to 
become  saturated  with  water  in  time  of  heavy  rains,  and  to 
crumble  down  and  out  at  the  bottom  when  affected  l)y  floods 
of  water.  So  our  Lord  declared  to  Ids  disci[>les  that  “ho  that 
heareth,  and  doeth  not,  is  like  a man  that  without  a founda- 
tion built  an  house  ui)on  the  earth  ; against  which  the  stream 
did  beat  vehemently,  and  immediately  it  fell ; and  the  ruin 
of  that  house  was  great.”  (Luke  vi.  49.) 

These  soft  bricks  are  also  used  in  the  construction  of  walls. 
A large  part  of  the  Avail  around  Damascus  is  built  of  them. 
The  walls  of  houses  must  be  made  thick  and  be  Avell  protected 
by  the  roof,  or  tlie  rainy  season  Avill  greatl}'  damage  them. 
Neither  are  they  seeun*,  for  Avith  a shar[)  iron  the  thief  may 
dig  tlirough  the  Avail  and  thus  effect  an  entrance  into  the  city 
or  ilwelling.  There  is  CAddent  allusion  to  this  danger  by  the 
Savior  Avhen  he  says,  “Lay  not  up  for  yourselves  treasures 
upon  earth,  Avhere  moth  and  rust  doth  corrupt,  and  where 
thieves  break  [literally,  dig,']  through  and  steal.”  (MattheAV 

vi.  19.) 

1 Avas  one  day 
admitted  into 
the  dAvelling  of  a 
Avealthy  Jcav-, 
which  I found 
un2)retending  on 
the  extei’ior,  and 
into  the  court  of 
Avh  ich  I crept 
through  a small 
gate,  to  enter 
Avhich  it  Avas 
necessary  to  stoop 
quite  loAv.  Once 

COURT  OP  AN  EASTERN  HOUSE.  witllill,  tllC  CyC 

was  met  Avith  most  splendid  apartments.  Walls  and  floors 
Avere  of  the  most  precious  stones,  Avhile  the  finest  of  art  had 


316 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


made  them  fit  places  for  the  dwelling  of  the  gods.  I should 
think  that  this  fitting  up  of  a single  reception-room,  or  divan, 
had  cost  not  less  than  eight  or  ten  thousand  dollars.  The 
lady,  learning  that  our  company  was  from  America,  treated 
us  with  great  courtesy,  and  we  were  shown  such  parts  of  the 
dwelling  as  we  de.sired  to  see  with  many  evidences  of  pleasure. 
For  this  courtesy  our  guide  paid  her  sc'-eral  piasters. 


DIVAN,  OE  EECEETION-EOOM. 

The  liotel  in  which  we  lodged  in  I)ama.scus  proved  to  be  a 
very  plea.saut  place.  It  was  the  more  interesting  on  account  of 
its  thorouglily  oriental  style,  having  been  built  by  a wealthy 
Damascene  as  a private  residence.  Tlie  entire  court  is  paved 
with  marble;  ami  the  fountain  and  fruits  and  comfortable 
chambers  renderi-d  the  locality  a desirable  i)lace  of  rest.  This 
is  the  only  hotel  in  Damascus,  though  there  are  many  cafes 
Avhere  meals  may  be  ol)tained.  This  hotel  is  kept  by  a widow. 

The  bazaars  of  Damascus  are  among  tbe  interesting  features 
of  the  city.  Kach  class  of  merchandise  or  industry  has  its 
own  particular  street  or  square.  The  streets  are  narrow  and 
usually  roofed  over,  and  little  stalls  about  eight  feet  square, 
jammed  in  closely  side  by  side,  are  occupied  V)v  the  merchants, 
who  have  their  goods  well  disi^layed.  In  one  s(piare  it  is 
nothing  but  red  slioes ; in  another,  cloaks  or  clothing;  in 
another,  jewelry  ; in  another,  silks;  and  still  in  another,  brass, 
and  iron,  and  so  on  tlirough  all  the  range  of  merchandise. 


WEDDING  PROCESSION. 


317 


The  man  sits  cri)ss-le'iged  and  smokes  his  pipe.  We  were 
in  the  city  at  a time  of  a great  iMohamniedan  feast,  which  is 
annually  kept  ii\  nuMuory  of  Mohammed’s  fliglit  from  Mecca 
to  ^lediua.  On  this  account  we  saw  Damascus  and  its  jjeople 
in  their  best  clnthc.s.  The  business  houses  nearly  all  kept 
holiday,  and  the  men  and  children  appeared  on  the  streets  with 
new  and  rich  clothing  of  tlie  gayest  colors.  Five  times  each 
day  the  cannon  fire  a round  of  shots,  the  first  being  given 
with  the  breaking  of  day.  The  peculiarity  of  dress  was  a 
constant  entertainment.  The  men  wear  long  gowns  down  to 
the  feet,  and  these  of  the  brightest  colors.  ^lost  of  tlie  women 
wear  the  white  sheet  entirely  over  their  person.  Small  chil- 
dren are  dressed  like  adult  persons.  The  appearance  of  small 
boys  and  girls  dressed  in  the  same  style  as  the  men  and 
women  presented  a scene  of  striking  curiosity.  Xow  and 
then  there  appi'ared  a young  woman  almost  white  on  the 
streets,  whose  face  was,  at  least  in  a large  measure,  e.x posed  to 
view,  and  who  would  really  have  appeared  very  beautiful  but 
for  the  fact  that  her  forehead  and  cheeks  were  tattooed  so  hor- 
ribly as  to  mak(?  her  ap})car  hideous.  These  usually  wore  a 
ring  in  the  nose,  wliich  does  not  add  much  to  their  beauty. 

One  day  as  we  were  passing  through  Damascus  my  atten- 
tion was  suddenly  attracted  by  a company  of  persons  moving 
along  the  streets  in  pompous  parade.  Some  men  gayly  dressed 
and  others  armed  were  riding  on  horses,  Avhile  a woman  ricldy 
clad,  hut  closely  veiled,  was  perched  upon  a camel,  whose  neck 
was  adorned  with  necklaces  of  silver  and  rihl^on.  Behind  her 
followed  several  women  almost  equally  richly  clad.  In  the 
front  of  the  procession  were  a number  of  camels  loaded  with 
furniture  of  various  kinds  and  materials  for  hou.sekeeping 
purposes.  Being  struck  with  the  appearance  of  the  proces- 
sion, I at  once  raised  inquiry  as  to  what  this  all  meant. 
Soon  I learned,  what  I should  have  at  first  suspected,  that  it 
was  a wedding-procession.  The  bridegroom  was  taking  his 
bride  home  to  his  dwelling.  This  procession  is  the  principal 
part  of  g Mohammedan  marriage.  The  bridegroom  had  already 
taken  the  dower  to  the  father  of  the  bride,  and  this  procession 


318 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


was  attended  with  the  fortune  of  the  bride  going  to  the  home 
of  the  husband.  From  the  amount  of  divans,  chests,  rugs,  and 
boxes,  I should  infer  that  this  ceremony  was  that  of  a lady 
of  more  than  ordinary  wealth.  Usually  it  is  said  the  Moham- 
medan women  do  not  possess  much  goods.  The  fathers  give 
away  their  daughters  in  marriage,  and  it  is  said  frequently 
make  the  proposals.  Still,  it  is  expected  that  the  bridegroom 
will  pa}'  a dower  for  his  wife,  even  as  was  done  here  ‘thousands 
of  years  ago — as  did  Abraham\s  servant  when  he  secured 
Rebecca  for  the  wife  of  Isaac.  (Genesis  xxiv.  53.  See  also 
Exodus  xxii.  17,  Deuteronomy  xxii.  29.)  The  Jews  and  Chris- 
tians have  more  of  a ceremony  of  words  at  a marriage,  while 
the  procession  resembles  that  of  the  iMohammedans.  These 
have  no  ceremony,  and  the  contract  or  betrothal  is  often  only 
verbal;  yet  nothing  remains  but  for  the  bride  to  be  taken  by 
the  husband.  It  is  much  as  in  the  case  of  Isaac,  above  referred 
to;  for  it  said,  “Isaac  brought  her  into  his  mother  Sarah's 
tent,  and  took  Rebecca,  and  she  became  his  wife;  and  he 
loved  her.”  (Genesis  xxiv.  67.)  It  is  probable  that  most 
fathers  consult  the  wishes  of  their  daughters  respecting  their 
future  husbands;  and  it  would  be  fortunate  if  in  every  case 
they  should  be  kind  enough  at  least  to  say  as  did  Laban  to 
Rebecca,  “AVilt  thou  go  with  this  man?”  AA'edding  proces- 
sions are  now  usually  held  in  the  day-time,  though  this  one 
seen  at  Damascus,  joined  in  by  the  friends  of  the  bridegroom 
and  bride  who  attended  them  to  the  home  where  the  feast 
was  to  be  held,  vividly  reminded  me  of  the  Savior’s  wonder- 
ful parable  of  the  ten  virgins,  five  of  whom  were  foolish,  and 
were  absent  purchasing  oil  when  the  bridegroom  came  and 
the  procession  was  formed,  “and  they  that  were  ready  went 
in  with  him  to  the  marriage ; and  the  door  was  shut.”  (Mat- 
thew XXV.  10.)  The  girls  are  married  at  an  early  age,  fre- 
quently when  only  thirteen  years  old.  The  Mohammedans 
allow  a plurality  of  wives ; and  for  certain  causes  men  are 
allowed  to  divorce  them.  AA’^omen,  however,  being  more  of 
slaves  than  wives,  this  seldom  occurs.  The  man  can  marry 
many  more  if  those  he  has  do  not  please  him. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


'Damascus — Trading  — Camels— Ornaments  — Mosques  — Call  of  the  Mu- 
ezzin— Great  Mosque — Basilica — Roman  Temple — Tomb  of  the  Head 
of  John  the  Baptist — House  of  Riinmon  — Altar  of  Ahaz  — Trouble 
in  the  Mosque  — The  Massacre  — Damascus  of  Antiquity  — Visits  of 
Abraham  and  Elisha  — Conversion  of  Saul  — Street  Called  Straight  — 
House  of  Ananias  — Old  Wall — Eastern  Gate. 


T is  impossible  to  do  justice  to  a description  of  the 
streets  of  Damascus,  filled  with  the  ciy  of  men  and 
children  and  women  who  everywhere  throng  them 
with  cakes,  figs,  and  water  to  sell.  A man  carries 
cucumbers  for  sale  and  cries,  ‘^Yabu  elch,  khudhlak  sheleli, 
bitlatin  roll  el-khiynr,”  “O  father  of  a family,  buy  a load ; 
for  thirty  paras  a roll  of  cucumbers.”  Another  tvith  a glass 
jar  in  his  hand  or  on  his  back  filled  with  water  carries  two 
brass  cups  in  his  hand  tvhich  he  rattles  in  the  clearest  manner 
and  cries,  Berrid  ala  kalbak,”  “refresh  thy  heart.”  Raisin- 
water,  licorice  - water,  etc.,  are  sold  along  the  streets  in  the 
same  manner,  while  here  and  there  a group  are  eating  corn 
which  they  have  roasted  on  a few  coals  in  the  street,  or  mak- 
ing a dinner  on  some  soup  prepared  in  a dish  in  the  streets, 
around  which  all,  old  and  young,  are  seated. 

Damascus  is  a great  trading-point,  and  silks  are  produced 
of  finest  quality.  Splendid  raisins  are  also  cultivated  in 
great  quantities.  Many  thousand  tons  are  annually  carried 
to  Beyroot  on  donkeys  and  camels.  The  camel  is  a great 
institution  in  Damascus.  King  Benhadad  sent  a train  of  forty 
camels  hy  Hazael  to  meet  the  old  prophet,  laden  with  the 
choicest  fruits  of  Dama.seus.  (II.  Kings  viii.  9.)  The  noiseless 
tread  of  the  camels  in  place  of  all  vehicles  in  the  street  causes 

319 


320 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


traffic  to  go  on  with  a restful  grace.  On  these  “ships  of  the 
desert”  great  bundles  of  wood  and  all  kinds  of  produce  for 
the  market  are  borne  along  the  narrow  streets.  So  closely 
crowded  ai’e  the  streets  that  I often  looked  to  see  a camel  tread 
upon  a group  of  children,  sitting  dotvn  eating  soup,  or  some 
old  hidy  roasting  corn  or  preparing  something  for  sale  in  tlie 
streets.  So  carefully  do  these  great,  ugly  animals  tread  along 
that  no  collision  occurred  and  no  harm  happened  to  any. 
And  thus  has  it  been  frhm  the  time  of  Abraham  until  now. 
No  improvement  or  invention  has  been  able  to  supersede  the 
camel.  He  is  the  strongest  yet  gentlest  of  all  the  animals  in 
service  here.  Though  sometimes  used  for  idowing,  his  task  is 
to  bear  burdens.  With  a growl  or  moan,  which  seems  to  be  a 
protest,  tbe  camel  kneels  down  Avith  four  movements,  the 
last  of  Avhich  is  a sitting  down  on  its  haunches  hung  on  its 
belly.  In  this  posture  and  with  many  a moan  the  camel  re- 
ceives its  load,  and  then,  growling,  slowly  rises  when  bidden, 
and  with  its  measured  tread  starts  on  its  weary  way.  It  lives 
on  the  roughest  f>f  food,  such  as  cut  straw,  barley,  dry  beans, 
and  the  j)rickley  thistle,  Avhich  like  thorny  bushes  grows  on 
the  plains.  The  Avord  camel  means  burden-bearer;  and  noth- 
ing on  earth  more  fully  ansAvers  its  cognomen.  l\Iany  of  them 
are  j)oor  and  look  ill  fed.  The  camel  lives  and  travels  great 
distances  with  little  food,  and  can  go  many  days  Avithout 
Avater.  Its  long  strides  in  travel,  throwing  the  rider  backward 
and  fox’AA'ard,  make  him  almost  sea-sick,  until  he  has  become 
accustomed  to  these  A’ibrations.  A great  Avooden  saddle  serves 
as  a kind  of  Avagon-ladder,  on  which  any  load  is  placed,  Avhile 
the  rider  sits  on  the  top  in  various  positions,  as  are  most  rest- 
ful to  him.  XoAV  and  then  I saAV  camels  Avith  silk  or  leathern 
strings  about  their  long,  crooked,  slender  necks,  and  a fcAV 
Avith  ornaments  of  silver  upon  them.  In  the  battles  of  Gideon 
against  Zalmund  and  Zebah,  “Gideon  took  aAvay  the  orna- 
ments which  Avere  on  their  camels’  necks”  (Judges  viii.  21), 
and  “the  chains  that  Avere  about  their  camels’  necks.”  (Judges 
viii.  26). 

In  Damascus  as  in  Constantinople,  the  dogs  are  supreme. 


CALL  OF  THE  MUEZZIN. 


321 


There  are  in  this  city  alone  nearh’  one  hundred  Mohammedan 
mosques  in  which  services  are  conducted  on  Fridays,  and  over 
one  hundred  smaller  houses,  also  called  moscjues.  wliieh  are 
used  as  school-houses,  where  persons  are  taught  to  read  the 
Koran,  h'riday  is  the  Mohammedan  Sahhath,  hiit  it  can 
hardly  be  called  a day  of  rest  with  tlumi.  It  usually  ])eeomcs 
their  great  market-day,  though  devout  Mohammedans  attend 
the  mos(jues  on  that  day  more  largely  than  upon  otlu'r  days. 
The  mosques  are  always  kept  open,  and  ])rayers  are  offered  in 
them  five  times  each  day.  M’ith  the  early  morning  a crier,  or 
muezzin,  ap})oars  in  the  tall  minaret  and  chants  the  “Adan,” 
or  call  to  2irayer, — ( iod  is  most  great.  God  is  most  great.  I 
testify  that  there  is  no  deity  hut  God.  I bear  witness  that 
Mohammed  is  God's  a^jostle.  Gome  to  ])rayer.  Come  to 
security.  Come  to  salvation.  Prayer  is  better  than  sleep. 
God  is  most  great.  There  is  no  other  (fod  hut  God,  and  Mo- 
hammed is  God’s  jrrojjhet.  Come  to  2)rayer ! ’’  In  every  city 
this  call  greeted  our  ears.  (See  page  239.)  The  largest,  most 
interesting  and  important  of  all  the  mos(|ues  of  Damascus  is 
the  “ Great  Mosque  of  the  Omeiyade.s,’’  which,  with  the  Mo- 
liammedans,  ranks  next  to  Medina,  Mecca,  and  the  Mos(|ue  of 
Omar,  at  .Jerusalem.  A Roman  temi)le  once  stood  on  the  same 
site,  which  in  the  fourth  century  was  converted  into  a Byzan- 
tine basilica,  dedicated  to  .John  the  Bajitist.  The  mosque  is 
four  hundred  and  twent}''-nine  feet  long  aird  one  huirdred 
and  twenty-five  feet  wide.  On  one  side  is  a great  court  sur- 
rounded by  massive  walls.  The  ancient  walls  of  the  mosque 
stand  as  they  did  in  the  Christian  tem2)le  a thousand  years 
ago,  they  having  been  jrreserved  by  the  Mohammedans  when 
the  church  was  destroyed  by  them.  At  first  the  mosque  was 
built  in  great  siilendor,  hut  being  in  jrart  dr'stroyed  by  fire 
in  1069,  it  was  restored,  hut  not  with  its  original  beauty.  On 
the  south  side  of  the  mosque  yet  stands  the  great  doorway 
once  leading  into  the  buildiirg  when  it  was  a Christian  church. 
The  carvings  of  the  massive  lintels  and  posts  remind  one  of 
the  entrance  to  the  Temple  of  the  Sun  at  Baalbec,  and  they 
were  probably  a part  of  the  building  when  a Roman  temjfie. 

21 


322 


THE  HOLY  LAXD. 


In  the  lintel  is  an  inscription  in  Greek,  wliicli  can  be  seen 
from  the  roof  of  a silversmith’s  bazaar,  -which  has  stood  there 
from  the  early  Christian  times.  It  is  as  follows:  “Tliy  king- 
dom, O Christ,  is  an  everlasting  kingdom,  and  thy  dominion 
endureth  throughout  all  generations.”  This  sculptured  sen- 
tence is  from  the  one  hundred  and  forty-fifth  Psalm  and  thir- 
teenth verse,  -\vith  “O  Chri.st”  interpolated.  The  interior  of 
tlie  mosque  is  divided  into  three  ])arts  by  two  rows  of  stone  col- 
umns twenty-three  feet  high,  extending  from  east  to  west.  A 
finely-gilded  wooden  structure  stands  in  the  mosque,  which 
is  said  to  contain  the  head  of  Jolni  the  Baptist.  Tliis  sjjot  is 
greatly  revered  by  tlie  Mohammedans  of  Damascus,  and 
they  are  accustomed  to  swear  by  the  liead  of  “ Yaliia,”  as  they 
call  this  saint.  Traces  of  the  ancient  structure  with  the  okl 
walls  and  arches  forming  tlie  entrance  to  the  basilica,  make 
this  mosiiue  an  interesting  study.  Xow  a mosque,  — over  a 
thou-sand  years  ago  a Christian  church  which  stood  iqion  the 
site  of  a Roman  tenqile  to  the  gods,  — it  becomes  altogcdher 
])r()hable  that  it  is  the  site  where  once  stood  the  “ House  of 
Rimnion,”  the  god  of  Syria,  to  which  Naaman,  who  at  first 
despised  the  Avaters  of  Israel,  Avhen  healc'd  and  eonverted,  car- 
ried tAVo  mule-loads  of  earth  as  an  offering  to  his  God.  (II. 
Kings,  A'.  17.)  To  this  spot  he  Avas  so  attached  that  though 
Avishing  to  honor  the  God  of  Israel  and  depart  from  idolatry 
he  said,  “ In  this  thing  the  Lord  pardon  thy  servant,  that 
Avhen  my  master  goeth  into  the  house  of  Rimnion  to  AA'orship 
there,  and  he  leaneth  on  my  hand,  and  I bow  myself  in  the 
house  of  Rimmon  : Avhen  1 hoAV  doA\  n myself  in  the  house  of 
Rimnion  the  Lord  pardon  thy  servant  in  this  thing.”  (II. 
Kings,  V.  18.)  It  Avas  from  Damascus,  and  probably  from  this 
house  of  Rimmon,  that  Ahaz,  king  of  Judah,  secured  the  pat- 
tern of  a heathen  altar,  after  Avhich  he  ordered  Urijah  to  erect 
an  altar  for  the  house  of  the  Lord  at  Jerusalem.  (JI.  Kings, 
xA’i.  10.)  Barefooted,  or  shod  in  slippers,  avc  visited  eA^ery  pai't 
of  the  mosque;  and  Ave  found  ourseh^es  closely  AA’atched  by 
the  Moslems.  An  incident  occurred  here  AA'hich  occasioned 
not  a little  alarm,  and  might  easily  have  ended  in  the  mur- 


THE  MASSACRE. 


323 


der  of  our  entire  com  pan}’ ! All  our  company  bad  removed 
their  shoes  and  put  on  slippers,  or  Avore  stockings  only,  ex- 
cept one.  He  had  just  purchased  at  the  bazaar  a ]3air  of 
native  shoes  to  bring  home  Avitli  him,  and  supposing  they 
would  answer  for  slippers  he  put  them  on  and  Avalked  through 
the  mosque  in  them.  This  occasioned  no  little  trouble.  Soon 
we  were  followed  by  a number  of  l\Ioslems  who  talked  loudly 
in  an  excited  manner.  Upon  impiiry  of  our  dragoman  Ave 
learned  the  cause  of  their  folloAving  us.  He  tried  to  tell  them 
that  the  man's  shoes  Avere  ncAv,  and  that  he  wore  them  as  siiji- 
})crs,  and  had  taken  his  shoes  off  at  the  door;  but  it  all  did  no 
good.  Not  less  than  tAventy-five  persons  were  around  us. 
When  we  Avere  about  ascending  the  minaret  tower  to  get  a 
view  of  the  city  they  raised  a roAV  and  jAersisted  in  refusing 
us  permission  to  do  so.  We  were  ([uite  alarmed.  The  caira.-i 
Avith  us  Avas  soon  strengthened  by  the  addition  of  several 
soldiers,  and  we  got  on  safely.  Thanks  to  the  soldiers ! This 
incident  calls  to  memory  the  bloody  scene  and  horrid  persecu- 
tion of  the  Chri.stians  less  than  a quarter  of  a century  ago. 
The  Christian  quarters  show  the  results  of  this  destructive 
outrage,  Avhich  began  on  the  ninth  of  July,  1860.  The  Dru.ses 
led  in  the  massacre,  but  had  the  su})port  of  the  Turks.  The 
streets  of  the  Christian  quarter  literally  ran  Avith  blood. 
Though  the  Christians  sought  shelter  everyAvhere,  they  Avere 
everyAvhere  pursued  and  slaughtered,  and  their  slain  bodies 
laid  in  the  streets  until  not  less  than  six  thousand  souls  per- 
ished. Many  of  the  clergy  were  butchered  beside  the  altars 
Avhere  they  had  fled  for  refuge.  While  this  hellish  massacre 
was  going  on  at  Damascus,  the  mountain  district  witnessed 
like  scenes  of  blood  until  probably  not  less  than  fourteen 
thousand  unoffending  Christians  Avere  slain.  When  all  Eu- 
rope Avas  aroused  the  work  ceased,  and  the  French  sent  an 
army  of  ten  thousand  men  to  Syria  to  suppress  the  murder. 
Pasha  Ahmed,  the  Turkish  leader,  and  others,  were  arrested 
and  executed.  It  is  to  be  regretted  to  this  day  that  the  Turks 
were  not  then  driven  entirely  out  of  this  land.  Our  courier 
at  Damascus  was  one  of  the  A’ictims  of  the  horrid  persecution. 


324 


THE  HOLY  LAXD. 


He  however  escaped  with  his  life,  and  found  his  way  to 
Europe,  while  his  father  and  family  fell  victims  to  the  hellish 
fanaticism  and  rage  of  the  Mohammedan  murderers. 

The  Damascus  of  antiquity  was  probably  more  like  that 
which  we  now  behold  than  any  city  of  the  East  like  its  former 
self.  With  a very  few  changes  of  a})i)earanee  there  is  no 
doubt  that  its  streets  and  houses  are  about  tlie  same  in  ap- 
l^earance  as  two  thousand  years  ago,  or  when  Paul  was  here 
a new  and  illustrious  convert  to  Christianity.  . ' 

Abraham  mu.st  have  passed  through  Dama.scus  on  his  way 
from  Ilaran  to  Canaan  nearly  four  thousand  years  ago,  wlien 
he  went  out  not  knowing  whither  be  went.  Josephus  leads  us 
to  infer  that  he  was  once  the  ruler  of  Damascus.  After  his 
sojourn  in  Egypt  he  pursued  the  armies  of  this  country  in 
battle,  determined  upon  tlie  recapture  of  Lot  and  his  goods, 
as  far  as  Dan,  and  there  dividing  his  servants  in  comjianies, 
by  night  smote  them  and  pursued  them  as  far  as  Ilohah,  above 
Damascus.  (Genesis  xiv.  13-16.)  Eliezer,  the  trusty  steward 
of  the  house  of  Abraham,  was  from  Damascus.  (Genesis  xv. 
2.)  David,  in  the  time  of  his  wars,  conquered  this  center  of 
Svria,  and  put  a garrison  liere.  (11.  i^amucl  viii.  5,  G.)  Eli- 
sha the  prophet  of  God  once,  at  least,  visited  here,  and  was 
met  by  Hazael,  to  inquire  whether  Btnhadad  should  recover 
from  his  disease.  The  king  had  such  confidence  in  the  man 
of  God  that  he  sent  a train  of  forty  camels  from  Damascus  to 
meet  Elisha.  (II.  Kings  viii.  9.) 

Day  after  day  as  I visited  the  different  places  and  parts  of 
Damascus  and  pressed  through  its  crowded  streets  I could  not 
l)ut  remember  the  wonderful  conversion  of  Saul  of  Tarsus, 
which  more  than  anything  else  makes  the  city  one  to  be  vis- 
ited with  interest.  His  idea  of  suppressing  Christianity  was 
only  bounded  by  the  utmost  distance  to  which  the  persecuted 
followers  of  Christ  had  fled.  He  had  done  his  worst  at  Jeru- 
salem. But  the  breadth  of  his  idea  appears  from  his  selecting 
the  capital  of  Syria  as  the  scene  of  more  extended  persecu- 
tions. He  knew  how  to  strike  the  centers  of  influence  and 
power.  His  cruelty  knew  no  hounds.  He  had  secured  the 


COyVERSlOX  OF  SAUL. 


325 


murtvnloin  of  Stephen,  guarding  the  clothes  of  the  men  who 
tlius  stoned  to  death  the  first  Christian  martyr.  (Acts  vii.  58.) 
Some  of  Saul’s  associates  had  embraced  Cliristianity ; but  the 
disciples  were  scattered  everywhere.  Young  Saul,  filled  with 
enthusiasm  for  Judaism  and  burning  with  madness  and  rage 
against  the  followers  of  Christ,  “breathing  out  threatenings  and 
slaughter  against  the  disciples  of  tlie  Lord,  went  unto  the  high- 
]>riest,  and  desired  of  him  letters  to  Damascus  to  the  syna- 
gogues, that  if  he  found  any  of  this  way,  whether  they  were 
men  or  women,  he  might  bring  them  bound  unto  Jerusalem.  " 
(Acts  ix.  1,  2.)  Notliing  daunted  his  rage.  The  tenderness  and 
lielplessness  of  women  made  no  appeal  to  his  heart.  Had  he 
forgotten  the  look  and  cries  and  prayer  and  death  of  Stephen  ? 
The  journey  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  Avas  almost  endt*d. 
The  time  of  work  was  at  hand.  He  had  come  near  to  Damas- 
cus. It  was  noonday.  Tin- 
great  city  spread  out  its 
beauty  before  him;  but 
“suddenly  there  shined 
round  about  him  a light 
from  heaven:  and  he  fell 
to  the  earth,  and  heard  a 
voice  saying  unto  him, 
Saul,  Saul,  why  persecut- 
est  thou  me  ? ” It  was  not 
Stephen  or  the  scattered 
disciples  of  the  Lord  or 
helpless  women,  but  the 
Lord  who  answerd,  “ I am 
Jesus  whom  thou  persecut- 
est.”  Three  days  and 
nights  blindness  fell  over 
his  eyes,  and  he  Avas  Avith- 
out  food.  Passing  one  day 
from  the  “ street  which  is 
called  Straight”  I saAv  tAvo 
men  sloAvly  and  carefully  leading  a poor  blind  man  througl) 


‘STREET  WHICH  IS  CALLED  STRAIGHT.** 


326 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


the  crowd;  and  so  eighteen  hundred  years  ago  they  led  Saul 
Tarsus  staggering  and  blind  to  the  city  through  the  western 
gate.  Here  yet  is  the  “ street  which  is  called  Straight/'  down 
which  he  tvas  led  sightless  to  the  house  of  Judas,  while  his 
In  art  and  voice  were  lifted  up  to  God  in  prayer.  This  long, 
straight  street,  about  twelve  feet  wide,  is  no  doubt  in  appear- 
ance much  as  it  was  when  Saul  looked  upon  it  after  three 
days  of  Idindness,  and  the  opening  of  his  eyes  tvhile  Ananias 
‘‘  jnitting  his  hands  on  him  said,  Brother  Saul,  the  Lord,  even 
Jesus,  that  aj^peared  unto  thee  in  the  waj"  as  thou  earnest,  hath 
sent  me  that  thou  mighest  receive  thy  sight  and  be  filled  with 
the  Holy  Ghost.”  (Acts  ix.  17-)  It  is  the  only  street  running 
directly  through  the  city,  and  though  called  “Straight,”  it  is 
not  absolutely  so,  but  compared  with  the  others  justly  de.serves 
its  name.  It  runs  through  the  entire  city  from  east  to  west. 
The  house  of  Ananias  is  yet  shown  to  visitors.  It  is  now  a 
Catholic  chapel,  about  thirty-five  feet  long  and  twenty-five 
wide,  with  an  altar  and  a few  rude  benches  in  it.  There  was 
a great  stir  in  Damascus,  for  Saul  immediately  “ preached 
Christ  in  the  synagogues,  that  he  is  the  Son  of  God.”  (Acts 
ix.  20.)  Here  he  increased  in  strength  and  confounded  the 
Jews.  But  God,  as  he  told  Ananias  (see  Acts  ix.  16),  was  as 
prompt  as  Saul,  and  so  were  the  Jews.  He  must  be  shown 
how  great  things  he  must  suffer  for  Christ's  sake ! The  Jews 
ti)ok  counsel  to  kill  him.  The  fate  he  had  selected  for  the 
followers  of  Christ  tvas  soon  proposed  for  him.  He  must 
escape  Damascus  and  find  other  fields  of  toil  and  study.  Por- 
tions of  the  old  walls  of  Damascus  still  remain,  and  I ram- 
Med  outside  the  city  to  the  place  in  the  structure  where  tradi- 
tion asserts  “the  di.sciples  took  him  by  night  and  let  him 
down  by  the  wall  in  a basket.”  (Acts  ix.  25.)  The  governor 
and  garrison  of  soldiers  were  seeking  his  arrest,  and  long 
afterward  he  told  his  Greek  converts  at  Corinth  that  “through 
a window  in  a basket  was  I let  down  by  the  wall,  and  escaji- 
ed.”  (II.  Corinthians  xi.  33.) 

The  remainder  of  the  wall  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  city  is 
of  heavy  stone,  the  lower  part  being  made  of  large,  scpiare, 


EASTERN  GATE. 


327 


dressed  stone.  The  gate  lias  a (ireek  lintel  and  liehind  it  a 
Itoinau  arch,  as  shown  in  onr  illustration.  Was  it  here  tlie 


EASTERN-  GATE  OF  DAMASCUS. 

new  convert  to  Christ  in  the  darkne.ss  of  the  night  lifted  up 
Ids  soul  to  God  in  a new  purpose  to  bear  all  persecutions  for 
Christ's  sake,  and  steadily  preach  Jesus  to  the  end'?  What 
a change  had  come  to  him ! What  a life  was  behind  him ! 
What  a career  lay  before  him!  It  was  doubtless  from  here 
that  Saul  went  into  Arabia,  where  he  spent  the  greater  part 
of  three  years.  IIow  this  time  was  spent  he  does  not  tell  us; 
liut  it  is  wisely  conjectured  that  it  was  employed  in  the  pro- 
founder study  of  the  Scriptures  as  they  relate  to  the  Messiah, 
and  in  personal  communion  with  God.  (Galatians  i.  17,  IS.) 
The  conversion  of  Saul  was  no  less  wonderful  and  divine  than 
his  illustrious  and  almost  peerless  life. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Leaving  Damaseus  — Wliite(V  Sepulchers— Place  of  Saul’s  Conversion  — 
Tomb  of  :Nimrocl  — Over  the  llennon  — Plowing — Height  of  Hermon 
— Character  of  Ilerinon  — Bible  Allusions — Rain-Storm — View  from 
Hermon  — Ctesarea  Philippi  — History  — Herod  Philip  — Salome  - Ba- 
nias  of  To-Day  — Walls  — Moats  — Gate  — Coins— Temple  of  Pan  — 
Fortress  — Christ  at  Ca'sarea — His  Discourse  — The  Transfiguration  — 
Raphael's  Transfiguration  — The  Lunatic  Child  — Woman  Healed  — 
Statue  — Eusebius’  Record  — A Figure. 


t^FTER  scvenil  days  spent  at  Damascus  our  company 
y,  turned  their  journeying  toward  Ctcsarca  Pldlippi. 

Our  course  lay  south-west  over  the  Damascus  plain. 

Just  outside  the  city  we  passed  through  a vast  gra ve- 
il^ yard.  Here  as  elsewhere  the  graves  are  all  whitewashed, 
1 and  show  not  only  great  care  for  the  2>laees  of  the  dead, 
but  forcefidly  and  often  reminded  me  of  the  words  of  Christ 
to  the  hv])ocritical  Jews — “Woe  unto  you,  scril)es  and  Phari- 
sees, hyi)Ocrites  ! for  ye  are  like  unto  whited  sei)ulcher.s,  which 
indeed  ai)pear  beautiful  outward,  hut  are  within  full  of  dead 
men's  hones.'’  (Matt,  xxiii.  27.)  These  whited  seijulchers 
were  adorned  with  myrtle  and  green  branches  of  trees.  Some- 
where in  this  jJain  we  jyassed  the  jdace  where  Saul  was  smit- 
ten down.  Earlier  tradition  located  the  site  aljout  six  miles 
distant  from  the  city.  No  doubt  the  scene  occurred  close  to 
Damascus.  Passing  out  of  the  valley  or  jJain  we  were  in  bro- 
kjcn,  hilly  lands,  and  beyond  the  water-shed,  and  camjjed  at 
Krfr  JIairar,  close  by  the  hanks  of  the  Pharpar,  which  Xaaman, 
the  leper  of  Damascus,  a long  time  ago  jJreferred  to  “ all  the 
waters  of  Israel”  when  he  received  the  in.struction  from  the 
servant  of  Elisha  to  wash  seven  times  in  the  Jordan.  The 
Pharpar  here  is  but  a small  stream  flowing  southward  until  it 

;’._8 


HEIGHT  OF  HERMON. 


329 


enters  the  Meadow  Lakes  miles  below.  Just  back  of  our  camp, 
the  first  night,  were  three  circular  mounds,  one  of  which  is 
pointed  out  as  the  tomb  of  Ximrod,  “the  mighty  hunter 
before  the  Lord.”  (See  Genesis  x.  8,  9.)  Which  is  his  tomb  I 
could  not  ascertain.  The  stones  in  the  poor-houses  here  show 
that  tlicy  are  from  some  anciimt  tiunple  which  once  adorned 
the  fabulous  location.  Close  by  our  camp  tbe  Bedouin  men, 
women,  and  children  were  husking  corn  far  into  the  niglit. 
Women  and  children,  half  clad,  came  around  our  camp  for 
backshish. 

The  next  morning  dusky  sliadows  Avere  crec})ing  along  over 
Ilcrmon,  and  clouds  Avere  lloatiug  over  its  summit.  Our 
dragoman  looked  long  at  tlie  clouds  and  said,  “ I don’t  like 
them.”  All  day  our  Avay  lay  over  the  slo])es  of  lofty  Hermon, 
on  the  top  of  which  Ave  saw  here  and  there  a patch  of  snoAV 
Avhich  the  summer  had  failed  to  remove.  Noav  and  then  Ave 
crossed  rocky  valleys,  iiA  Avhieh  the  i)eopl(!  Avere  preparing  for 
the  soAving  of  grain.  There  are  no  fences  in  all  Syria;  and 
in*a  little  \udley  1 counted  twenty,  and  even  thirty  yoke  of 
oxen  plowing.  The  men  or  Avomen  ])lowing  Avere  barefoot(“d, 
and  seemed  to  stand  it  Avell  oA'er  the  stones.  The  stones  are 
for  a distance  limestone,  then  basaltic,  then  volcanic.  For 
miles,  at  a height  of  about  six  tbousand  feet  above  the  sea- 
level,  Ave  traveled  o\an-  beds  of  lava,  or  stone,  throAvn  fi’om 
volcanoes  in  the  long  ages  past.  Just  to  our  right  Avas  the 
tallest  peak  of  Hermon,  ten  thousand  feet  abo\m  the  leA'el  of 
the  sea.  The  mountain  is  cultivated  far  up  its  slopes,  and 
over  its  huge  form  shepherds  lead  their  tlocks  in  the  pasture 
season.  There  are  a few  large  trees  loAV  down  on  the  mountain, 
but  farther  up  are  great  quantities  of  shrubs  of  the  Syrian  oak, 
almond,  and  other  trees.  Its  summit  is  divided  into  three 
peaks,  — tAVo  of  nearly  equal  height,  and  one  much  loAver. 
Ruins  of  ancient  buildings  are  yet  to  be  s('en  near  the  sum- 
mit of  the  mountain,  for  once  a Roman  temple  adorned  it. 
The  ancient  IlebrcAVS  called  Hermon,  Sifui.  (Deuteronomy 
iv.  48.)  And  in  the  time  of  Joshua  it  Avas  mentioned  as  the 
land  forming  the  borders  of  tbe  land  yet  to  be  pos.sessed. 


330 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


(Joshua  xii.  1;  xiii.  5.)  The  psalmist  in  joortraying  the 
blessing  of  fellowship  and  spiritual  communion  of  the  people 
of  God  remembered  the  “ dew  of  llermon and  in  the  fall- 


ing mist  of  the  lofty  mountain  which  refreshes  it  like  the 
rain,  he  saw  the  refreshing  dews  of  the  fellowship  of  brethren 
who  “dwell  together  in  unity.”  (Psalms  cxxxiii.  3.) 


VIEW  FROM  IIERMON. 


331 


All  day  long  we  journeyed  along  its  slopes.  When  we  had 
reached  the  highest  point  to  which  the  way  chosen  led  us, 
we  found  ourselves  enveloiied  in  clouds;  and  amid  a tremen- 
dous wind  and  storm  the  rain  poured  down  upon  us,  so  that  our 
horses  turned  around  and  refused  to  go  farther.  We  coaxed 
them  along  down  the  great  steep  of  the  Ilermon  for  several 
hours,  until  by  and  by  the  rain  ceased  for  a time  and  the 
clouds  were  lifted,  and  our  eyes  caught  far  off  in  our  front  the 
first  view  of  the  valley  of  Banias,  whore  rise;  tlie  four  sources 
of  the  Jordan,  uniting  to  form  the  river  in  the  valley  al>ove 
the  waters  of  Merom.  It  was  a grand  sight.  Tlie  plain  lying 
beautifully  between  Ilermon  on  the  east  and  the  mountains 
of  Naphtali  on  the  west,  spreads  out  with  the  appearance  of 
fertility,  such  as  we  had  not  seen  after  leaving  Damascus. 
Then  the  streams  forming  the  Jordan  wound  about  tangled 
among  the  hills,  and  the  Avater.s  of  IMorom  miles  arvay  spread 
out  like  a fiery  sheen  in  the  setting  sun,  Avhich  was  almost 
ready  to  disappear  behind  the  mountains  of  Naphtali.  Soon 
to  our  right  were  seen  great  olive-orehards,  and  aboA'e  them 
the  toAvering  fortress-height,  sheltered  by  lofty  Ilermon,  from 
Avhich  the  ruins  of  the  ancient  fortress  looked  grimly  doAvn 
upon  us.  Down  over  one  Avinding  rocky  steep  after  another 
our  horses  wei’e  hurried  along  until  Ave  Avere  on  the  talde-land 
at  the  base  of  Hermon.  Then  Avinding  around  between  great 
trees  Ave  soon  Avere  amid  the  ancient  ruins  of  Ca'sarea  Philippi. 
Passing  through  the  toAvn  Ave  found  a beautiful  spot  under  a 
number  of  grand  old  oliA'e-trees,  Avhere  Ave  aMghted  cold  and 
Avet  and  pitched  our  tents  for  the  Sabbath.  The  “early  rains” 
had  begun,  and  all  the  night  long,  and  Sabbath,  Sabbath 
night,  and  Monday  the  rain  fell  in  torrents.  Half  of  our 
company  were  sick;  and  this  cold  rain  and  a day’s  delaA'  Avas 
not  very  inspiriting.  Here  for  the  first  I felt  that  my  feet 
had  come  upon  the  soil  made  sacred  by  the  footsteps  of  our 
blessed  Lord.  Here  for  the  first  time  I came  upon  territory 
Avhere  certainly  our  Savior  once  visited. 

Banias  of  to-day  is  knoAvh  in  the  New  Testament  under 
the  name  Cajsarea  Philippi.  It  Avas  before  that  time  knoAvn  as 


332 


TEE  HOLY  LAND. 


Pancax;  and  here  the  god  Pan  was  worshiped  and  had  a tem- 
ple, built  by  Herod  the  Great,  of  white  marble,  in  honor  of 
Augustus.  Herod  Philip  rebuilt  or  enlarged  the  city  and 
named  it  “Cicsarea  Philippi”  in  honor  of  Caesar  and  himself; 
and  though  afterward  honored  by  Agrij)pa  II.,  it  was  under 
Herod  Pliilip  that  it  attained  its  greatest  glory.  He  was  a 
mild  and  gentle  ruler ; and  if  the  records  of  history  are  to  be 
relied  upon,  after  living  unmarried  most  of  his  life,  when  old 
he  fell  in  love  with  and  married  Salome,  the  daughter  of  his 
half  brother,  Herod  Phili]-),  and  Herodias.  It  was  she  who 
danced  at  the  drunken  fea.st  of  Herod  Antipas  when  the  im- 
prisoiK'd  and  heroic  John  the  Baptist  was  at  her  request  be- 
headed (Matt.  xiv.  1-12),  and  his  head  brought  in  a charger 
and  delivered  to  Herodias,  who.se  adulterous  sin  in  marrying 
Antipas  he  had  rebuked.  Salome  was  then  a child  perhaps 
not  more  than  fourteen  years  old,  and  was  soon  married  to 
Herod  Philip,  whose  death  occurred  onl}’  a few  years  after  his 
marriage.  She  then  married  her  cousin,  Aristobulus. 

Banias  of  to-day  tells  only  by  ruined  rvalls  and  partially- 
filled  moats  and  fragments  of  Irroken  columns  any  story  of  its 
former  glory  in  tbe  d«iys  of  Philij),  the  tetrarch  of  Galilee. 
Its  location  is  delightful,  upon  a kind  of  table-land  from  the 
•Iordan  valley  or  natural  terrace  of  the  mountain.  It  is  one 
thousand,  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  above  the  sea -level. 
Streams  of  water  flow  down  from  the  vallej^s  which  slope 
away  into  the  mountains  until  the  rocky  soil  all  about  is 
made  luxuriant  with  vegetation.  Remains  of  broken  col- 
umns which  we  found  scattered  quite  south  of  the  present 
town  show  that  it  once  had  an  extended  anai.  On  the  north 
and  east  are  the  great  walls  and  remaining  towers  of  drafted 
stones,  outside  of  which  runs  a deep  moat,  once,  no  doubt, 
filled  with  water  from  the  cave  of  Pan,  which  then  must 
have  flowed  out  of  the  great  cave  under  the  brow  of  the  hill 
instead  of  from  the  ])ebbles  and  stones  quite  below  it,  as  it 
now  does.  Three  of  these  towers,  built  of  immense  stones, 
still  remain.  On  the  south  the  wall  and  ancient  towers  re- 
veal th(>  strength  and  glory  of  the  city  of  Christ  s time.  A 


COIXS. 


333 


gateway  tlirough  the  wall  still  remains  ami  is  in  daily  use. 
It  leads  out  and  across  a great  stone  bridge  which  s])ans  the 
chasm  or  moat  outside  the  southern  wall. 


SOUTHERN  GATS  OF  C^ffiSAREA  PHILIPPI. 


Some  of  theci)lunius  and  cai  vcd  pillars,  no  doubt  of  Pliilip's 
time,  are  built  into  this  ancient  structure.  At  difi'erent  places 
about  the  old  walls  the  Arabs  were  digging  and  sifting  the 
dirt  and  dcbrii<  in  .search  of  ancient  coins,  or  “antique,”  as  the 
boys  called  them  as  they  came  every  morning  and  evening  to 
our  cami»  to  sell  them.  Some  of  these  coins  were  of  great 
antiquity  and  very  rare,  while  others  w(>re  such  as  are  (juite 
numerous  in  various  collections.  Most  of  them  were  of  cop- 
})er;  and  how  so  large  a number  could  have  been  lost  is  a 
wonder.  Probably  they  w(*re  thrown  away  by  the  emperors 
whose  superscription  they  bear  for  the  amusement  and  profit 
^ of  the  poor  on  great  occasions,  and  many  of  them  thus  re- 
mained unfound. 

On  Sabbath  we  climbed  over  rocks  through  the  rain  and 
visited  the  cave  of  Pan,  which  is  a huge  cavern  almost  hidden 
\inder  a cliff  of  the  castle  hill.  The  mouth  of  the  cavern  has 
been  greatly  filled  up  by  the  fallen  rock,  so  that  the  water 
finds  its  way  out  through  the  rocks  some  distance  from  the 
cavern.  The  water  is  beautiful,  and  clear  as  crystal,  and  forms 
at  once  the  eastern  branch  of  the  four  sources  of  the  Jordan. 


334 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


Just  to  the  east  of  this  spring  once  stood  the  Temjjle  of  Pa- 
llium, scarcely  a vestige  of  which  remains.  In  the  rocks  are 
the  votive  niches  whicli  were  once  the  altars  of  the  tem- 
ple. They  are  about  four  or  live  feet  high,  two  feet  wide,  and 
nearly  a foot  deep,  being  concave  in  form,  wth  a horizontal 
cut  below.  Above  some  of  the  niches  the  inscrijhion  in  Greek 
is  clearly  visible,  — “ Priest  of  Pan.”  On  a ledge  of  rock  jjro- 
jecting  as  a cliff  a little  distance  from  the  site  of  the  Temple 
of  Herod,  now  stands  a little  iveli,  or  Mohammedan  praying- 
place,  which  is  the  only  sign  of  religious  worship  of  any  kind 
I saw  at  Ca'sarea. 

East  of  this  fountain,  and  nearly  one  thousand,  two  hun- 
dred feet  above  the  level  of  the  site  of  the  temple,  is  the 
ancient  castle,  nearly  one  thousand  feet  long  and  three  hun- 
dred feet  wide.  Much  of  the  castle  is  now  in  ruins,  and  its 
walls  are  fallen  down.  Tin?  greatness  of  the  drafted  stone,  and 
the  lofty  eminence  on  the  hill,  on  either  side  of  Avhich  are  deep 
valleys  six  hundred  or  more  feet  deep,  show  what  a defense  it 
was  to  the  city  in  its  time  of  glory  ! Its  sight  may  have  sug- 
gested to  Christ  the  declaration  to  Peter,  “Ui)on  this  rock  I 
will  build  my  church;  and  the  gates  of  hell  .riiall  not  prevail 
against  it.”  (Matthew  xvi.  18.)  Thirty  or  forty  rude  mud- 
houses,  with  a few  others  constructed  in  part  of  the  stones  of 
ancient  Cicsarea,  are  all  there  is  of  Banias.  It  would  be  diffi- 
cult to  imagine  a more  squalid,  dirty  set  of  beings,  claiming 
to  be  human,  than  the  half-clad  women  and  children  covered 
with  dirt,  who  with  tlie  lazy  men  inhaliit  these  dirty  huts 
built  where  once  stood  the  proud  city  of  Herod,  and  where 
once  Titus  celebrated  his  victories  over  Jerusalem,  with  feasts 
and  drunkenness,  and  cruelty  and  death  to  captured  Hebrews. 

Caesarea  Philij)pi  is  more  interesting  to  the  Bible  student 
on  account  of  the  visit  Jesus  made  here  under  the  peculiar 
circumstances  whioh  gathered  around  him.  The  shadow  of 
the  cross  Avhich  was  ever  before  the  eyes  of  Jesus,  from  his 
entrance  upon  his  ministry  to  his  dark  betrayal  and  murder, 
was  becoming  more  distinct.  The  hatred  of  the  Jews  daily 
increased.  The  heart  of  Christ  became  more  and  more  ab- 


CHRIST  AT  C.ESAREA. 


335 


sorbed  and  his  life  more  perfectly  surrendered  to  his  mis- 
sion. A great  crisis  was  soon  to  overtake  the  little  hand  of 
Galilean  disciples  which  had  followed  him  in  his  path  of 
poverty,  toil,  and  love.  lie  must  more  fully  unfold  his  char- 
acter to  his  chosen  disciples.  To  them  and  to  those  who 
should  believe  on  his  name  he  must  disclose  the  mystery  ot 
godliness— God  manifest  in  the  llesh.  They  must  understand 
his  per.son  and  mission.  “ When  Jesus  came  unto  the  coasts 
of  Cfesarea  Philippi  he  asked  his  disciples,  saying.  Whom 
do  men  say  that  I,  the  Son  of  man,  am  ? ’’  When  told  that 
some  held  him  to  he  John  the  Baptist,  some  Elias,  and  others 
Jeremiah,  he  askc'd  them,  “Whom  say  ye  that  I am?”  (5Iat- 
thew  xvi.  13.)  Peter  said,  “Thou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the 
living  God.”  Here  then  Jesus  more  fully  revealed  himself  as 
the  Sen  of  God,  in  all  his  divine  nature.  After  this  disclosure 
to  his  followers  here  at  C'icsarea,  Jesus  h('gan  “to  shew  unto 
his  di.sciples,  how  that  he  must  go  unto  Jeru.salem,  and  suffer 
many  things  of  the  elders  and  chief  priests  and  scribes,  and 
be  killed,  and  be  raised  again  the  third  day.”  . (Matt.  21.  xvi.) 
This  was  the  great  event  in  the  life  of  Christ  before  his  arrest. 
Here  he  was  preparing  his  disci])les  for  that  which  as  yet  they 
did  not  understand.  Here  he  told  them  plainly  that  if  any 
man  would  come  after  him  he  must  take  irp  his  cross  ami 
follow  him ; and  whosoever  would  save  his  life  should  lose  it, 
and  whosoever  would  lose  his  life  for  his  sake  should  find  it. 

( Mark  viii.  35.)  Here  he  also  told  his  disciples  plainly  that 
he  should  come  again  to  judge  the  world. 

Thus  filling  up  six  days  in  teaching  his  disciples  jdainly  of 
himself,  he  took  “Peter,  James,  and  John  his  brother,  and 
hringeth  them  up  in  a high  mountain  apart  and  was  trans- 
figured before  them;  and  his  face  did  shine  as  the  sun,  and 
his  raiment  was  white  as  the  light.  And,  behold,  there  ap- 
peared unto  them  Moses  and  Elias  talking  with  him.”  (Mat- 
thew xvii.  1-3.)  It  was  up  the  slopes  of  Hermon,  I doubt  not, 
that  Jesus  led  his  three  di.sciples;  and  on  one  of  the  lofty 
peaks  upon  which  our  eyes  looked  again  and  again,  covered 
with  clouds,  that  “a  bright  cloud  overshadowed  them:  and 


336 


THE  HOLY  land: 


behold  a voice  out  of  tlie  cloud,  uhicli  said,  This  is  mv  be- 
loved Son  in  -sYbom  I am  well  pleased ; hear  ye  him.”  (Mark 
ix.  7 ; Matthew  xvii.  5.) 

As  I looked  again  and  again  upon  Ilermon  towering  above 
all  the  heights  of  Palestine,  and  searched  the  Scriptures 
closely,  the  conviction  increased  that  it  was  within  the  folds 
of  the  bright  clouds  hovering  over  Hermon  that  our  Savior 
was  transfigured,  and  not  in  Tabor,  as  has  often  been  ccxiject- 
ured.  Where  in  all  the  world  was  it  more  probable  that  Jesus 
would  find  shelter  for  six  days  than  here  at  the  head-waters 
of  the  Jordan  ? He  had  come  here  to  reveal  himself  to  his 
disciples.  During  the  “six  days,”  he  Avas  here  delivering  his 
Avonderful  discourses,  only  a part  of  Avhich  is  given  us  in  the 
sixteenth  chajiter  of  MattheAv.  Besides  this,  does  not  Mark 
tell  us  plainly  after  relating  the  accounts  of  the  transfigura- 
tion, and  the  subsecjuent  casting  out  of  the  “ dumb  and  deaf 
spirit”  Avhich  the  disciples  could  not  cast  out,  that  “they 
departed  thence,  and  passed  through  Galilee”?  (Mark  ix.  30.) 

Here  then,  along  the  stream  Avhich  forms  one  of  the  chief 
sources  of  the  Jordan,  or  beneath  some  oliA'e-grove,  the  Savior 
disclosed  to  his  disconsolate  disciples  the  certainty,  manner, 
and  purpose  of  his  decease  a*t  Jerusalem.  Yonder  in  the  shin- 
ing clouds  on  Hermon  he  shadoAA'ed  forth  to  his  chosen  three 
his  supreme  glory  Avhich  Avas  to  follow.  Here  to  beclouded 
intellects  he  showed  the  path  out  of  sin  and  sorroAV.  Yonder 
in  the  bewilderment  of  shining  glory  on  the  mountain  he 
presented  the  gateway  to  that  glory  Avhich  lies  far  beyond  the 
peaks  of  Hermon.  There  is  something  sublimely  fitting  that 
these  two  rcA’elations  should  in  the  ministry  of  Christ  thus  lie 
side  by  side, — the  one  at  the  head  fountain  of  the  renowned 
Jordan  and  the  other  in  the  lofty  king  of  mountcdns, — only  a 
feAv  miles  aAvay.  Here  Peter  voiced  the  belief  of  the  disciples 
when  he  said,  “ Thou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God.”  But 
in  the  glory  of  the  Mount  of  Transfiguration  yonder,  Jesus 
shoAved  to  them  in  something  of  its  fullness  what  this  really 
meant.  Here  to  the  people  Avho  then  lived  within  the  Avails, 
whose  ancient  ruins  Ave  have  climbed  over  and  around  from 


RAPHA  EL ’S  TEAXSFIG  UR  A TION. 


337 


one  end  to  another,  Jesus  showed  the  great  truth  that  “ who- 
soever will  save  his  life  shall  lose  it ; but  whosoever  shall  lose 
his  life  for  my  sake  and  the  gospel’s  the  same  shall  save  it.’’ 
To  the  people  of  this  then  royal  capital  of  Philip,  as  well  as 
to  his  disciples,  he  propounded  that  of  all  questions  the  most 
momentous,  “ For  what  shall  it  i)rofit  a man  if  he  shall  gain 
the  whole  world  and  lose  his  own  soul  ?”  As  some  trembled 
upon  the  verge  of  faith  in  his  wonderful  words  he  declared, 
'•  Whosoever  therefore  shall  be  ashamed  of  me  and  of  my 
words,  in  this  adulterous  and  sinful  generation,  of  him  also 
shall  the  Son  of  man  be  ashamed,  when  he  cometh  in  the 
glory  of  his  Father  with  the  holy  angels.”  (Mark  viii.  38.) 
Then  in  the  mountain  of  transfiguration  he  manifested  some- 
thing of  what  that  gloiy  was  and  what  it  should  be. 

If  Christ  made  but  one  visit  to  Ca-sarea  Philippi,  it  was  an 
illustrious  one.  It  was  not  alone  in  his  wonderful  words  and 
doctrines,  and  in  the  disclosure  of  his  divine  character  and 
mission,  nor  yet  in  his  transfigured  glory  on  the  mountain, 
that  his  majesty  and  power  were  made  known. 

Raphael,  in  his  masterpiece,  which  is  the  glory  of  the 
Vatican  at  Rome,  in  that  inimitable  picture,  “The  Transfig- 
uration,” places  below  the  Redeemer,  whose  face  shines  with 
unearthly  glory,  and  whose  garments  glow  as  the  brightness 
of  the  sun,  the  group  of  astounded  disciples  who  are  seeking 
to  cast  out  the  lunatic  devil  from  a poor  tortured  child,  while 
the  father  of  the  child  stands  mournfully  by.  The  glaring, 
torturous,  piteous  look  of  that  child,  whose  great  eyes  gaze  on 
the  apostles,  the  deep  solicitude  of  the  father  with  his  heart 
pierced  through  Avith  painful  love  and  desire,  the  bewildered, 
astounded  countenances  of  the  disciples  and  the  look  of  the 
excited  throng,  are  only  surpassed  and  overshadoAved  by  the 
Avondrous  glory  and  divinity  of  the  artist’s  transfiguration 
scene,  presented  at  the  top  of  the  picture.  Such  is  the  mas- 
terpiece of  Raphael,  and  such  is  indeed  the  Bible  record.  For 
here  at  Caesarea  the  Avonder-smitten  disciples  saAV  more  fully 
their  own  lack  of  strength  and  faith  as  they  beheld  the 
departure  of  the  dumb  spirit  from  tbe  child  at  the  bidding  of 
22 


338 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


Christ,  though  it  had  refused  to  come  out  when  they  had  com- 
manded it  to  do  so.  (Matthew  xvii.  14-21.) 

Early  tradition,  and  perhaj)s  early  history,  relates  that  it 
was  here  at  Ciesarea  I'hilippi  that  the  woman  resided  who 
was  healed  of  an  issue  of  blood  which  had  afflicted  her  twelve 
years,  by  coming  behind  Christ  and  touching  the  hem  of  his 
garment.  (Matthew  ix.  20;  Luke  viii.  43,  44.)  Eusebius 
has  this  record,  “ At  the  gates  of  her  house  on  an  elevated 
stone  stands  a brazen  image  of  a woman  on  her  bended  knee 
with  her  hands  stretclual  out  before  her  like  one  entreating. 
Opposite  to  this  there  is  another  image  of  a man,  erect,  of 
the  same  material,  decently  clad  in  a mantle  (diplois),  and 
stretching  out  his  hand  to  the  woman.  Before  her  feet,  and 
on  the  same  pedestal,  there  is  a certain  strange  plant  growing, 
which  rising  as  high  as  the  hem  of  the  brazen  garment,  is  a 
kind  of  antidote  to  all  kinds  of  diseases.  This  statue,  they 
say,  is  a statue  of  .Jesus  Christ,  and  it  has  remained  even  until 
our  times;  so  that  we  ourselves  saw  it  whilst  tarrying  in  that 
city.”  (Eusebius,  page  289.) 

To-day  desolate  ruins,  broken-down  walls,  half-filled  moats, 
and  broken  columns  and  pillars  of  stone  scattered  everywhere, 
listen  to  the  gurgle  and  rii)ple  and  murmur  of  the  pearly 
streams  flowing  through  oleander-groves  and  under  olive- 
shades,  down  to  the  waters  of  the  winding  Jordan!  Here 
the  weary  feet  of  our  loving  Lord  once  trod,  and  here  he  un- 
folded the  glory  and  richness  of  his  love  which  prompted  him 
to  begin  a life  at  Nazareth,  like  the  stream  bursting  from  the 
cave  of  Paneas,  which  flowing  down  the  valley  of  ceaseless 
toil,  at  last  plunged,  like  the  Jordan,  into  the  sea  of  death. 
From  that  death  rose  the  hope  of  eternal  life  to  a dying  race! 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


Clouds  Lifting  — Leaving  Banias — Dan  — Golden  Calf  — Mound  of  the 
City  — Samson’s  Foxes  — llasbany  — Derdarali  — Mountains  of  Napb- 
tali — Kedesh  — Cit3'  of  Refuge — Home  of  Deborah  — Shepherds  — 
Goats  — Sheep  — Bible  Illustrations  — Cl>rist  tlie  (Jood  Sliepherd  — 
Slieep-Fold  Dividing  the  Sheep  from  the  Goats  — Skin  Bottles  — 
Incidents  — Women  Carrj'ing  Water — Ilagar  — Fat  of  Sheep — Bed- 
ouin Cloaks  — Camp  at  Merom — Battle-Scene  of  Joshua. 


r 


ERIXG  a stay  of  two  days  and  three  nignts  at  Ctesarea 
it  rained  almost  incessantly.  Amid  the  rain  and 
storm  several  of  our  company  pushed  out  th.rough 

f-'V  the  mud  and  examined  all  the  places  of  interest.  The 
rain  was  quite  cold.  Our  horses  and  mules  wej-e  shel- 
, • tered  in  the  great  cave  of  Pan.  In  the  (‘venings  we 
gathered  weeds  and  brush,  and  begged  and  hired  some  Arabs 
to  carry  us  more;  and  with  these  our  company  kindled  a fire 
in  the  midst  of  the  camp,  around  which  they  gathered,  as 
many  as  were  able  to  be  out,  and  talked  of  the  promises  of 
fair  weather  on  the  morrow.  When  Tuesday  morning  came 
the  clouds  were  broken.  AVhat  a glad  company  ! Nearly  one 
half  of  our  company  were  really  ([uite  ill  — too  ill  to  travel. 
But  all  were  ready  for  the  saddle.  Our  wet,  heavy  tents  and 
cam p-eqifi page  were  put  on  the  mules’  backs,  and  we  were  off 
for  the  valley  of  the  Jordan.  All  feared  that  the  early  rains 
(James  v.  7)  had  set  in;  and  if  so,  it  was  deemed  quite  well 
to  be  far  away  from  lofty  Hermon,  whose  cone  piercing  the 
skies  seemed  to  ever  invite  the  waters  which  produce  the 
.sources  of  the  Jordan.  And  long  as  memory  lasts  our  little 
company  of  pilgrim  tourists  will  remember  their  introduction 
to  Palestine  at  Banias. 


339 


340 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


Our  first  object  was  to  see  the  ancient  site  of  Dan,  the  most 
northerly  city  of  Palestine  at  the  time  of  its  occupancy  upon 
Israel’s  return  from  Egypt.  The  ride  was  down  the  idateau 
over  steeps  and  rocks  and  through  scrubby  oaks  which  grow 
here,  hut  only  to  a small  size.  However,  some  of  these  in 
a good  camp-fire  while  at  Ca*sarea  under  the  great  olives 
would  have  chased  the  cold  away  from  our  hands  and  the 
damjmess  from  our  feet.  The  clouds  were  lifting  from  old 
Ilermon,  whose  towering  and  dome-like  form  covered  Avith 
snoAV  we  Avere  leaving  behind  us,  and  we  Avere  promised  a 
pleasant  journey  oiiAvard.  The  roads  Avere  \mry  slippery. 
DoAvn  these  hills  our  horses  slipped  and  slid  and  climbed  over 
the  rocks  Avondrously.  Here  in  a narroAV  jiatli  descending 
from  the  plateau  to  the  loAver  A’alley  Ave  met  a caraA'an  of 
camels  going  toAvard  Ca'sarea.  Probably  th(‘y  Avere  going 
on  to  Damascus.  AVhat  huge,  ugly,  kindly,  burden-bearing 
creatures  they  are.  One  ahvays  looks  at  them  with  some 
degree  of  amazement.  There  one  poor  thing  had  slid  doAvn 
Avith  its  great  load  upon  it.  Eflort  after  efibrt  Avas  made 
to  get  up,  but  it  slipped  doAvn  every  time.  Poor  thing,  it 
baAvled  so  pitifully.  How  this  long  comj)any  got  up  the  hills 
is  hard  to  tell.  There  Avere  thirty  camels,  and  they  did  not 
look  as  if  they  had  enough  to  eat.  Before  us  Avere  the  sharjA, 
rugged  mountains  of  Naj^htali,  a number  of  miles  across  the 
rough  plain. 

Soon  Ave  Avere  at  the  fountain,  or  source  of  the  Jordan,  at 
Tell-el-Kadi.  Here  is  a mound  eight  or  nine  hundred  feet  in 
length  and  one  third  less  in  Avidth.  On  the  top  is  a fine,  large 
oak-tree,  under  Avhich  is  a IMohauiinedan  tomb.  This  is  the 
site  of  the  ancient  Dan,  mentioned  in  the  account  of  Abra- 
ham’s pursuit  of  the  captors  of  Lot.  (Genesis  xiA".  14.)  In 
Judges  xviii.  27  it  is  called  Laish.  Our  readers  are  fainiliar 
Avith  the  expression  “ from  Dan  to  Beersheba.”  (I.  Samuel 
iii.  20.)  Beersheba  AV'as  the  southern  toAvn  and  Dan  the  north- 
ern city  of  Canaan.  Thus  the  expression  literally  meant  the 
AA’hole  land.  During  the  reign  of  “Jeroboam  the  son  of  Nebat 
Avho  made  Israel  to  sin,”  an  idol  in  the  shape  of  a golden  calf 


SAMSOX'S  FOXES. 


341 


was  set  uj)  here,  and  the  people  of  Israel  came  to  Dan  and 
worshiped  it  rather  than  go  to  Jernsalem  to  worship  the  true 
God!  P^or  he  “made  two  calves  of  gold,  and  said  unto  them, 
It  is  too  much  for  you  to  go  up  to  Jerusalem  : behold  thy 
gods,  O Israel,  which  brought  thee  uji  out  of  the  land  of 
Egypt.  And  he  set  the  one  in  Beth-el  and  the  other  }uit  he  in 
Dan.’’  (I.  Kings  xii.  28,  20.)  The  location  of  this  city  in  the 
jdain,  richly  supplied  with  abundance  of  water,  is  one  of  the 
most  delightful  tliat  could  have  been  cho.'^en,  and  it  comes 
before  us  in  history  under  the  najiie  of  Laish,  not  less  than 
fourteen  hundred  years  before  Christ  ])assed  this  way  to  Cu*s- 
area  Philij)])!.  (See  Judges  xviii.  20.)  It  is  now  entirely 
uninhabited;  and  if  the  traveler  cares  to  push  through  the 
cane-brake  and  groves  (jf  oleanders,  he  can  thoroughly  exam- 
ine the  mound  containing  the  ruins  of  ancient  Dan,  with  no 
interference  from  any  one  seeking  backshi-Ai.  From  under 
(his  mound  rises  a vast  stream  of  water,  larger  than  that  from 
the  Cave  of  Pan  at  Ca’sarea.  This  is  considered  to  be  the 
chief  source  of  the  Jordan.  Farther  on  Ave  came  in  sight  of 
a thicket  of  oleanders,  in  Avhich  Ave  di.scoA'ered  another  stream 
springing  up  among  basaltic  rock.  These  streams  unite  a 
little  lower  down  and  form  the  El-Lcddan,  or  Little  Jordan  as 
Josephus  called  it.  Crossing  the  stream,  Avhich  is  easily 
forded,  we  had  a fine  A'iew  of  the  pasture-lands  before  us  and 

soutliAvard  down 
the  .Jordan. 

Among  the 
annoyances  ex- 
perienced at  Ca*s- 
area  Philippi, 
and  other  places 
by  night,  was  the 
howling  or  cry- 
ing or  scream- 
JACKAL  - SAMSON’S  FOX.  iHg  of  jackals. 

Sometimes  they  came  down  close  to  our  camp  and  woke  up 
all  the  company,  and  kept  up  their  hideous  howling  fiw 


342 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


lionrs.  1 had  much  anxiety  to  know  what  kind  of  creatures 
they  could  be  that  made  such  a hideous  noise,  which  is  un- 
like anything  from  brute  or  human  with  which  my  ears  have 
ever  been  saluted.  Just  after  passing  the  ruins  of  Dan,  one 
of  these  jackals,  half  like  a dog  and  half  like  a fox,  jumped 
up  before  us  and  leisurely  scampered  over  the  plain  to  the 
thicket  of  oleanders.  It  is  seldom  that  they  can  be  seen  in 
the  day-time,  though  they  are  abundant.  The  jackal  is  near 
the  size  of  the  American  fox,  of  grayish  color,  darker  on  the 
back,  and  with  a heavy,  bushy  tail.  The  screaming,  howling, 
'barking,  piercing,  wailing  cries  of  these  nightly  creatures 
sounded  as  if  some  animals  of  perdition  had  surrounded  our 
camp!  The  jackal  is  known  in  the  Bible  by  the  name  of  fox. 
Samson,  when  robbed  of  his  Philistine  wife,  caught  three 
hundred  of  these  creatures  and  tied  their  tails  together  two  by 
two,  with  fire-brands,  thus  destroying  the  corn  of  the  Philis- 
tines by  fire.  (Judges  xv.  4,  5.)  I had  no  feeling  of  destruc- 
tiveness to  any  one’s  corn-field,  but  should  not  have  objected  to 
those  nightly  visitants  being  served  in  that  way.  Are  these 
foxes  mentioned  in  the  Bible?  Yes,  a number  of  times.  .Ter- 
temiah,  in  his  picture  of  the  desolation  of  Zion,  says  his  heart 
was  faint  and  his  eyes  were  dim  “ because  of  the  mountain  of 
Zion,  which  is  desolated;  the  foxes  walk  upon  it.”  (Lamenta- 
tions V.  18.)  Our  Lord  also  mentions  the  fox  in  that  sorrow- 
ful picture  of  his  earthl}’-  poverty  when  he  said  to  the  scribe, 
“Foxes  have  holes,  and  the  birds  of  the  air  have  nests;  but 
the  Son  of  man  hath  not  where  to  lay  his  head.”  (Matthew 
viii.  20.) 

A ride  of  about  two  miles  from  Dan,  across  the  plain  over  a 
stony  road,  brought  us  to  a bridge  which  crosses  the  stream 
Hasbany,  which  is  the  longest  source  of  tlie  Jordan.  In  le.ss 
than  two  miles  more  we  crossed  the  Derdarah,  a tributary  of 
the  Jordan.  This  route  gave  us  a view  of  the  four  sources  of 
the  renowned  river  Jordan.  The  widest  is  about  thirtj’’  feet, 
and  the  water  is  clear  and  beautiful. 

Directly  in  our  front  were  the  mountains  of  Naphtali. 
Reaching  the  foot-hills  east  of  the  mountains  we  turned 


CITY  OF  REFUGE. 


343 


southward  toward  Lake  Iluleh,  or  waters  of  Merom.  At  this 
point  we  left  the  region  of  country  over  -which  in  ancient 
times  trade  and  travel  passed  from  Damascus  to  Tyre  on  the 
Mediterranean  coast.  A few  miles  in  our  front,  before  turning 
southward,  lay  Kedesh,  one  of  the  most  noted  cities  in  north- 
ern Palestine  in  its  early  history.  It  was  once  the  seat  of  a 
j)owerful  Canaan itish  ruler,  but  was  possessed  by  Israel  and 
given  to  Naphtali  nearly  fifteen  hundred  years  before  Christ 
bore  our  sins  on  the  cross  of  Calvary.  Joshua,  according  to 
the  commandment  of  the  Lord,  which  promised,  “ I will  aj> 
point  thee  a place  whither  he  shall  flee”  (Exodus  xxi.  12-14), 
set  apart  Kedesh  as  one  of  the  seven  cities  of  refuge.  He 
thus  appointed  Shechem,  in  the  center  of  the  land  west  of  the 
Jordan,  Hebron  in  the  south,  and  Kedesh  in  the  north.  East 
of  the  Jordan  were  Bezer,  Ramoth,  and  Golan.  (Joshua  xx. 
7,  8.)  These  cities  were  Avell  located,  and  so  situated  as  to 
he  equally  accessible  from  any  part  of  the  land.  The  roads 
to  them  were  to  he  unobstructed,  so  that  any  one  who  had 
slain  his  fellow  might  escape  to  them  before  overtaken  by 
the  avenger  of  blood.  God’s  government  was  provided  so 
as  to  administer  swift  punishment  upon  the  wicked.  One 
liaving  committed  murder  and  effecting  his  entrance  into 
Kedesh  or  any  of  the  cities  of  refuge  was  free  from  the 
avenger,  and  was  there  given  a fair  trial.  If  the  man-slayer 
was  found  guilty  of  willful  murder  he  was  surrendered  to  the 
punishment  of  death,  but  not  until  he  had  stood  “before 
the  congregation  in  judgment.”  (Numbers  xxxv.  11,  12.) 
If  the  murder  was  committed  by  accident,  then  the  congrega- 
tion should  “restore  him  to  his  city  of  refuge  whither  he  was 
fled.”  There  he  should  remain  until  the  death  of  the  high- 
priest  under  whose  ministration  he  entered  the  city  of  refuge. 
If,  however,  he  should  at  any  time  before  the  death  of  the 
high-priest  be  found  by  the  avenger  of  blood  outside  of  the 
city  he  was  sure  to  be  slain.  (Numbers  xxxv.  24-28.)  This 
provision  was  not  to  protect  the  guilty,  but  to  allow  protec- 
tion to  the  innocent  and  to  afford  opportunity  for  fair  trial. 
That  the  refugee  in  the  refuge-city  must  abide  in  the  place 


344 


THE  HOLY  LAXD. 


of  safety  until  the  death  of  the  high-priest  beautifully  figures 
forth  the  necessity  of  the  death  of  Christ  in  order  to  the  sal- 
vation of  the  sinner.  Up  yonder  hill  to  Kedesh  doubtless  fled 
many  a hard-])ursued  man-slayer,  seeking  shelter  from  im- 
pending justice  and  death.  Kedesh  is  scarcely  less  interesting 
on  account  of  its  being  the  home  of  Debora  ihe  j)rophetess, 
who  judged  Israel.  (.Judges  iv.  6-9.)  Among  Bible  characters 
she  stands  out  as  one  of  the  unicpie.  The  courageous,  noble, 
patriotic,  eloquent  wife  of  Lajiidoth,  not  desirous  of  reaping 
a glory  which  might  have  been  won  alone  by  Barak,  gathered 
Zebulun  and  Xaphtali  in  this  mountain  city  Ke<lesh,  ten  thou- 
sand men,  with  whom  she  and  Barak  went  down  to  victory 
over  .Jal)in"s  army,  comjiosed  of  nine  hundred  chariots  of  iron 
and  hosts  of  Canaanitish  warriors. 

Our  way  lay  southward  along  the  west  .side  of  the  Jordan 
valley.  To  our  right  rises  the  hill,  or  mountain  country  of 
Xaphtali.  The  rain  had  made  the  path  muddy,  and  all  day 
long  our  ponies  had  hard  wading.  To  our  left  lay  vast  fields 
of  corn  which  the  Bedouins  were  gathering.  Xow  and  then 
were  to  he  seen  flocks  of  she(‘p,  goats,  and  cattle.  Coats  and 
sheep  are  pastured  together.  Sometimes  several  hundred  sheep 
and  goats  are  seen  in  one  flock,  lierdi-d  by  one  sluqflierd.  How 
carefully  the  stout  shepherd  cares  for  evei-y  member  of  his 
fold.  How  strikingly  these  scenes  reminded  me  of  numerous 
characters  of  the  Bible  and  of  many  tender  passages  of  Script- 
ure. In  one  scene  the  Bible  presents  a kind  of  photographic 
view  of  everything  one  sees  here  in  real  life.  David,  the 
younger  son  of  Jesse,  at  Bethlehem,and  the  second  king  over 
Israel,  was  a shepherd  lad,  and  from  his  pastoral  experience 
draws  that  unfathomable  imagery  of  beauty  and  consolation, 
exclaiming,  “The  Lord  is  my  shepherd;  I shall  not  want.” 
As  one  beholds  the  hills  with  the  grass  dried  up  by  the  scorch- 
ing sun,  he  can  appreciate  the  beauty  of  the  continuing 
psalm,  “ He  maketh  me  to  lie  down  in  <ircen  pastures.”  In 
this  land  .so  destitute  of  water  in  many  of  its  parts,  David 
mu.st  often  have  been  compelled  to  lead  his  flocks  for  even 
' miles  to  where  fountains  or  streams  of  water  furnished  abun- 


CHRIS 7'  THE  GOOD  SHEPHERD. 


345 


dant  pastures.  So  ho  says,  “ He  leadeth  me  beside  the  still 
waters.”  (Psalms  xxiii.  2.)  From  the  days  of  Abraham  down 
to  the  present  time,  these  valleys  and  hills  and  mountains 
have  been  pi’essed  by  the  feet  of  the  tender  and  watchful 
shejdaerd.  So  the  psalmist  says,  “Give  ear,  O Shepherd  of 
Israel,  thou  tliat  leadest  .Joseph  like  a flock.”  (Psalms  Ixxx. 
1.)  Our  Savior  calls  himself  the  good  shepherd,  saying,  “ I 
am  tlie  good  shepherd:  the  good  shepherd  giveth  his  life  for 
the  sheep.”  “ The  hireling  deeth,  because  he  is  an  hireling, 
and  careth  not  for  the  sheep.”  “ I know  my  sheep,  and  am 
known  of  mine.”  (.John  x.  11-14.)  Lifting  up  his  vision  upon 
the  widening  world  and  the  coming  ages,  Jesus  saw  the  gen- 
tile races  and  exclaimed,  “ And  other  sheep  1 have,  which  are 
not  of  this  fold  : tliem  also  J must  bring,  and  they  shall  hear 
my  voice;  and  there  shall  be  one  fold  and  one  .shepherd.” 
(John  X.  16.)  No  wonder  the  writer  of  Hebrews  calls  Jesus 
“ that  great  Shepherd  of  the  slieep,”  “ brought  again  from  the 
dead,”  “through  tlie  blood  of  the  everlasting  covenant.”  (He- 
bews  xiii.  20.)  From  this  careful  and  peculiarly  tender  pursuit 
of  life  in  which  the  care  and  strength  of  the  father  in  his 
home,  and  the  tenderne.ss  and  love  of  a mother  among  her 
children,  combine  in  the  fidelity  of  the  shepherd  who  \yatche.s 
and  leads  his  flocks  by  day  and  gathers  them  softly  in  the 
sheep-fold  by  night,  the  Apostle  Peter  would  remind  the  min- 
ister of  Christ  of  the  peculiar  work  committed  to  his  hands 
when  he  says,  “Feed' tlie  fiock  of  Go  I which  is  among  you,” 
“ and  when  the  chief  Shepherd  shall  appear,  ye  shall  receive 
a crown  of  glory  that  fadeth  not  away.”  (J.  Peter  v.  2-4.)  To 
this  day  the  .shepherds  go  before  their  flocks,  “ leading  them 
out,”  rather  than  going  behind  to  drive  them.  Though  the 
sheep  and  goats  pasture  together,  at  eventide  the  shepherd 
divides  them  and  places  them  in  different  folds.  So  our  Lord 
declares  it  shall  be  in  the  end  of  the  world;  for,  “ Before  him 
shall  be  gathered  all  nations : and  he  shall  separate  them  one 
from  another,  as  a shepherd  divideth  his  sheep  from  the 
goats:  and  he  shall  set  the  .sheep  on  his  right  hand,  but  the 
goats  on  the  left.”  (Matthew  xxv.  32,  33.) 


346 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


In  many  places  the  sheep  and  goats  are  sheltered  in  ancient 
caves  in  the  hill-sides.  But  we  saw  a number  of  sheep-folds 
which  are  in  Syria  and  Palestine,  the  same  as  in  the  time  of 
Christ.  The  shee}>-fold  is  a low  inclosure  built  of  stone  and 
covered  so  as  to  protect  the  hocks  from  thieves  and  wild 
beasts.  There  are  small  doors  oiiening  into  this  fold.  It  has 
a court  in  front,  also  surrounded  b}'  a stone  wall.  It  was 
doubtless  from  this  same  structure  that  .Jesus  drew  liis  illus- 
tration so  familiar  to  the  shepherds,  when  he  exclaimed,  “ He 
that  entereth  not  by  the  door  into  the  shee]>-fold,  but  climbeth 
up  some  other  way,  the  same  is  a thief  and  a robber.  But  he 
that  entereth  in  the  door  is  tlie  sliepherd  of  the  sheep.” 
(John  X.  1,  2.) 


Most  of  the  goats  of  Palestine  are  black,  and  very  black, 
but  some  have  spots  of  wliite  on  them.  As  I saw  these  black 
creatures  here  and  there  striped  and  spotted,  I remembered  the 
strategy  of  Jacob  with  his  father-in-law,  Laban,  when  the 
“spotted  and  .speckled”  of  the  goats  and  the  cattle  were  to  be 
his  hire  after  the  years  of  service  for  Rachel  and  Leah  had 
been  completed.  (Genesis  xxx.  32.)  These  goats  of  to-day 
are  doubtless  the  same  in  kind  that  were  owned  by  Jacob, 
three  thousand  six  hundred  years  ago.  The  goat  of  Palestine 
now  is  of  great  value  to  the  people  for  the  milk  produced, 
which  is  a large  part  of  the  sustenance  of  most  of  the  people, 
and  for  the  skins  which  are  much  used  in  many  ways.  The 
skins  of  goats  fill  the  place  of  kegs,  barrels,  jugs,  buckets, 


SKIN  BOTTLES. 


347 


churns,  etc.,  in  our  country.  These  skins  are  removed  from 
the  animals  as  nearly  whole  as  possible,  and  then  tanned  with 
the  hair  left  on  them.  They  are  then  sewed  up  entire,  the 
head,  and  legs  from  the  knees  down,  only  being  taken  otf.  One 
opening  is  left,  usually  the  end  of  one  of  the  legs ; and  this 
is  the  ‘‘bottle”  of  the  Bible  record.  Christ  said,  “ Xeither  do 
men  put  new  wine  into  old  bottles : else  the  bottles  break,  and 
the  wine  runneth  out.”  (Matt.  ix.  17.)  While  the  skins  are 
new  they  are  not  only  strong,  but  elastic,  and  can  endure  the 
fermentation  of  wine ; but  when  old  they  become  harder  and 
more  brittle,  and  the  ferment  of  wine  would  quickly  burst 
them,  destroying  both  bottles  and  wine.  These  large  goat- 
skin bottles  are  used  to  carry  water  from  the  fountains  to  the 
towns  and  villages.  The  women  tie  several  of  them  together 
across  the  back  of  a camel  and  thus  they  are  carried  to  town. 
I often  saw  two  of  them  carried  in  the  same  manner  on  a don- 
key. They  are  scarcely  less  frequently  carried  by  the  women. 
As  I often  looked  upon  some  barefooted  woman,  poorly 
dressed,  bearing  one  of  these  huge  leathern  bottles  on  her 
shoulder,  there  came  .to  mind  the  pitiful  and  sad  scene  wliich 
occurred  at  the  tent-door  of  Abraham,  nearly  four  thousand 
years  ago,  when  he  dwelt  in  the  valley  of  Mamre,  and  sent 
Hagar  and  her  child  away  into  the  wilderness.  I thought  I 
could  see  Abraham  lifting  to  Hagar’s  shoulders  one  of  these 
bottles  filled  with  water,  and  then  watching  her  turn  away  in 
the  morning  twilight  toward  the  wilderness  of  Beersheba. 
For  ‘‘Abraham  rose  up  early  in  the  morning,  and  took  bread, 
and  a Vjottle  of  water,  and  gave  it  unto  Hagar,  putting  it  on 
her  shoulder,  and  the  child,  and  .sent  her  away.”  (Genesis 
xxi.  14.)  It  is  not  a little  amusing  to  see  one  of  these  bot- 
tles when  filled,  looking  like  a large,  fat,  black  hog,  lying  on 
the  ground  or  .suspended  in  the  air,  while  a woman  beats, 
kicks,  and  rolls  it  about  in  a terrible  manner.  One  of  our 
company  noticing  such  a curious  performance  asked  what 
it  meant.  He  was  not  a little  surprised  when  he  was  in- 
formed that  the  woman  was  churning.  The  milk  is  put  into 
this  bottle  and  pounded  until  the  cream  is  converted  into 
butter. 


348 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


The  sheep  of  Palestine  are  about  the  ordinary  size,  and  of 
the  ordinary  appearance  and  -wool  coating,  except  that  they 
liave  long,  broad,  heavy  tails  of  fat,  which  usually  are  about 
four  inches  wide,  and  sonietiines  a foot  long.  This  heavy, 
fatty  tail  seems  to  becpiite  burdensome  to  tlie  sheep;  but  it  is 
of  great  service,  as  it  is  rendered  and  used  in  the  place  of 
lard.  This  fat  with  olive-oil  is  the  supply  of  fat  for  all  cu- 
linary purposes.  In  tire  arrangements  made  Avith  Israel  for 
a peace-offering  the  priest  Avas  instructed  to  take  Avith  the 
kidneys  and  other  portions  of  the  lamb  offered,  “the  fat 
thereof,  and  the  Avhole  rump,  it  shall  he  take  off  hard  by  the 
back-bone,”  (Leviticus  iii.  9,)  for  an  “offering  made  by  fire 
unto  the  Lord.”  Doubtless  this  “rump”  AVas  the  fat  tail. 

The  flesh  of  the  sheep  is  much  used  as  food,  and  the  skins 
are  tanned  Avith  the  avooI  and  used  for  cloaks.  In  the  toAvns 
we  passed  and 
the  companies  of 
men  Ave  met  I 
saAV  many  of  the 
cloaks  of  sheep- 
skin, and  also  of 
goat-skin.  The 
Bedouin  cloak  is 
universally  Avorn 
by  the  people 

who  dAvell  in  tents.  They  are  also  made  of  cotton  and  camel's- 
hair,  and  are  of  fanciful, striped  colors.  The  common  people 
wear  the  simple  black  and  white  striped  cloak.  This  is  their 
clothing  by  day  and  their  coA^ering  and  bed  by  night  — and 
so  it  Avas  thousands  of  years  ago.  In  the  laAvs  given  b}’  Moses 
it  was  particularly  specified  that  if  this  cloak  Avere  taken  as 
a pledge  or  security  of  a neighbor,  it  Avas  to  be  returned  by 
the  time  “that  the  sun  goeth  down ; ” and  this  because  it  was 
his  coA'^ering,  and  his  raiment  for  his  skin,  in  Avhich  he  should 
sleep.  (Exodus  xxii.  26,  27.)  This  is  no  doubt  the  same  kind 
of  a garment  called  a mantle,  worn  by  Elijah  and  subse- 
quently by  Elisha,  AA’ith  which  both  these  prophets  smote  the 
waters  of  the  .Iordan  and  thcA’  divided  asunder. 


CAMP  AT  MFAIOM. 


349 


Amid  such  hourly  and  almost  constant  reminders  of  the 
fact  that  we  were  in  the  land  of  the  Bible,  and  that  about  us 
on  every  side  were  facts  and  features  which  proved  that  the 
Bible  could  have  been  written  amid  no  other  surroundings, 
we  slowly  turned  our  faces  southward,  journeying  along  at 
the  base  of  the  mountains  of  Naphtali.  To  the  right  in  the 
rocky  steeps  of  the  hills  are  great  rock-tombs  which  evidently 
were  prepared  ages  ago.  Some  of  them  are  so  large  that  they 
are  used  as  siielters  for  sheep  and  goats.  In  the  valley  are  to 
be  seen  mounds  which  are  ruins  of  cities.  After  passing  the 
corn-region  in  the  upper  valley,  we  found  the  region  above 
and  about  the  waters  of  iNIerom,  or  Bay  of  Iluleh  as  it  is 
sometimes  called,  a vast  swamp  covered  with  cane,  oleanders, 
and  rushes.  This  entire  valley  is  occupied  by  the  Bedouins, 
who  are  a wild,  gypsy-like  people.  They  do  not  build  houses 
but  live  in  tents.  We  passed  several  camps  of  these  people. 
One  of  these  camps  contain-ed  not  le.'ss  than  two  hundred 
tents.  Some  are  made  of  rushes  or  reeds,  others  of  cloth  made 
of  the  hair  of  goats.  They  are  nothing  more  than  a few  stakes 
driven  "into  the  ground  and  small  poles  put  on  them  and  the 
cloth  or  rougli  mats  spread  upon  them.  They  contain  sei)arate 
compartments  for  the  women,  who  seem  to  live  outside  of 
them  more  than  in  them.  The  dirty,  half- naked  children 
came  after  us  for  harhshUh.  The  men  are  strong  and  hand- 
some. The  women,  unlike  those  of  most  countries,  are  ugly, 
though  stout-looking.  These  camps  are  usually  at  considera- 
ble distance  from  water,  and  the  women  are  employed  much 
of  the  time  in  carrjdng  water  and  in  washing  their  clothes. 
Besides  the  goat-skins,  the  women  also  use  great  earthen  jars, 
holding  several  gallons  of  water,  carrying  them  always  on 
their  head,  with  a little  pad  on  the  head  to  keep  the  water-pot 
from  hurting  the  head  or  to  help  balance  the  jar. 

In  the  evening  we  found  our  camp  pitched  beside  the 
waters  of  Merom,  at  the  north-west  border  of  the  lake  on  the 
bank  of  a pretty  stream  coming  down  from  a number  of  fount- 
ains in  the  adjacent  plateau  of  hills.  The  lake  is  triangular 
in  shape,  about  four  miles  long  and  over  three  miles  in  width 


3.50 


THE  HOLY  LAED. 


at  the  widest  place.  It  is  about  two  hundred  and  seventy 
feet  above  sea-level,  and  abounds  with  water-fowls,  large  num- 
bers of  pelicans  and  wild  ducks  finding  shelter  in  the  papy- 
rus, which  forms  a perfect  jungle  about  portions  of  the  lake. 
Tliese  ducks  are  coarse,  and  regarded  as  very  poor  food,  though 
some  of  the  Bedouins  followed  ;is  with  a half  dozen  or  more 
of  them,  trying  to  sell  them  to  us.  As  we  got  off  our  burses, 
tired  from  the  long  ride  of  the  daj',  and  sat  dowm  in  our 
tent-door,  two  burly  Bedouins,  w'ell  armed  wdth  shot-guns,  sat 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  little  brook  watching  our  camp 
suspiciously.  I w'as  reminded  that  it  w'as  just  here  by  these 
Avaters  of  Merom,  and  no  doubt  close  to  these  springs,  that  the 
hosts  of  all  the  people  under  Jabin,  King  of  Hazor,  Jobab 
king  of  Madon,  and  the  kings  of  Shimron,  and  Achshaph,  and 
those  north  of  Hermon,  and  those  of  the  south  and  west,  the 
Canaanites,  Amorites,  Ilittites,  Perizzites,  and  other  people 
Avere  assembled  and  camped  Avith  horses  and  chariots,  even  in 
numbers  as  the  sands  upon  the  sea-shore.  (Joshua  xi.  1-5.) 
Here  all  these  kings  Avere  met  aird  pitched  together  to  fight 
against  I.srael.  Here  on  this  plain  Joshua,  encouragecV  by  the 
Lord,  came  against  the  mighty  hosts  by  the  Avaters  of  Merom 
and  fell  upon  them  suddenly:  and  the  Lord  delivered  them 
into  the  hands  of  Israel,  Avho  smote  them  and  chased  them 
until  there  were  none  left;  and  upon  these  plains  .Toshua 
houghed  their  horses  and  burned  their  chariots  Avith  fire. 
(Joshua  xi.  6-9.) 

I took  time  to  examine  a rude  mill,  situated  a distance  up 
the  stream,  and  early  sought  rest  in  the  tent,  still  Avet  from 
the  previous  rains. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


Leaving  Meroni  — Gazelle  — Stork  — From  Lake  Huleh  to  Sea  of  Galilee 
— Khan  Yusef — View  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee  — The  Scene  of  Jesus’ La- 
bors— Choraziu  — Capernaum  — Ruins  of  a Synagogue — Christ’s  Woe 
on  the  Cities — His  Boundless  Invitation. 


i; 


iWr  A he  morning  of  the  9th  of  November  our  company 
i Mi  i started  early  from  our  eamiiing-place  by  the  waters  of 
Merom,  for  the  “ .sea-side,”  where  we  hoped  to  camp 
’by  the  Sea  of  (lalilee.  At  the  first  there  was  a drizzling 
rain ; but  in  a few  hours  the  clouds  were  lifted,  and  the 
sun  soon  dried  our  wet  clothing.  To  our  left  the  lake  lay 
in  full  sight  for  a good  while.  The  plain  is  now  fertile  as  we 
go  on  southward,  (treat  quantities  of  sweet-fennel,  almost  as 
high  as  our  h(>ads  Avhen  on  horseback,  grow  in  many  places. 
A beautiful  gazelle  was  chased  up  before  us  as  our  dragoman 
headed  the  way  across  field  after  field.  Some  of  our  company 
impulsively  gave  the  gazelle  a chase,  but  it  was  soon  out  of 
sight.  I .saw  a number  of  them  in  different  parts  of  Palestine. 
They  are  the  same  in  color  and  form  as  the  American  deer, 
though  somewhat  smaller  and  more  slender.  They  have  been 
found  here  in  all  historic  times,  and  are  known  in  the  Bible 
by  several  names.  They  always  reminded  me  of  the  descrip- 
tion of  Asahel,  the  .son  of  Zeruiah,  who  “ was  as  light  on  foot 
as  a wild  roe.”  (IT.  Samuel  ii.  18.)  He  must  have  been  much 
more  fleet  than  our  hor.ses,  for  these  gazelles  were  always  soon 
beyond  our  reach. 

Farther  on  we  came  quite  close  upon  a naif  dozen  storks. 
What  fine-looking  birds  they  are!  They  are  as  large  as  our 
American  turkey,  very  neat,  with  beautiful  white  breast  and 
head  and  bla(dc  wings  The  psalmist  speaks  of  the  stork  as 


352 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


having  the  fir-tree  as  the  jilace  of  its  nest.  (Psalms  civ.  17.) 
In  ancient  Ephesus  I saw  the  nest  of  one  of  these  storks  upon 
the  licight  of  an  old  ruin. 

The  journey  down  the  val- 
ley of  the  Jordan  is  a delight- 
ful one.  The  distance  from 
Lake  Iluleh  to  the  Sea  of  Gal- 
ilee is  about  eleven  miles,  di- 
rect, and  the  width  of  the 
A’allcy  here  is  iirobably  six 
miles,  though  broken  by  hills 
some  miles  below  the  lake. 

After  riding  two  hours  we 
came  uj)on  stony  hills  2)roject- 
ing  from  the  mountains  into  the  valley.  Close  to  our  right  rise 
mountain  ridges  high  and  sharp.  By  ten  o'clock  we  were  at 
K/inn  Jubb  Yu.'<cf,  where  there  are  large  walls  and  old  ruins, 
and  a large  reservoir  in  ruins.  This  jdace  has  its  name  from  a 
tradition  of  the  Aral)S  that  it  was  here  that  Josei:>h  was  thrown 
into  a 2^it  his  brethren.  After  examining  the  buildings 
we  rode  aside  some  distance  uj)  a steej)  hill  to  .‘^ee  the  j)it  into 
which  Jose2>h  was  thrown.  It  is  a large  cistern  or  well  cut 
deep  in  solid  rock.  Of  course  it  is  well  known  that  in  those 
early  days  the  Hebrews  ke2)t  their  flocks  in  the  south  of  Pal- 
estine and  not  here  above  the  Sea  of  Galilee. 

In  a few  moments  more  we  had  ascended  another  rocky 
ridge,  when  in  the  distance  before  us  I caught  my  first  view 
of  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  nestled  between  the  mountains.  The 
clouds  had  dispersed,  and  the  waters  of  this  lake,  hallowed  by 
so  many  sacred  memories,  glistened  like  a sea  of  glass  before 
us.  It  seemed  hut  a mile  or  two  away,  so  clear  Avas  the  atmo.s- 
phere.  Almost  the  entire  form  of  the  lake  Avas  in  sight  at  a 
single  glance.  To  our  right  Avere  the  rugged  hills  of  Galilee. 
Scanning  closely  the  hills  to  the  right  of  the  sea  far  around 
its  side,  Ave  could  readily  discover  the  toAvers  and  Avail  of 
Tiberias.  To  the  left,  or  east  of  the  sea,  the  mountains  of 
Gadara  toAvered  up  more  abruptly,  and  to  the  height  of  almost 


SEA  OF  GALILEE. 


353 


two  thousand  feet.  A soft  stillness  brooded  over  tlie  waters 
of  the  hallowed  sea.  Not  a boat  was  in  sight.  What  a quiet 
contrast  with  the  teeming  throb  of  life  about  this  sea  the  last 
time  Jesus  was  here  in  person,  after  his  resurrection  from  the 
dead.  I can  not  describe  the  emotions  of  my  enraptured 
heart,  when,  indeed,  I saw  the  Sea  of  Galilee  not  in  a picture, 
not  'in  a fancy  dream,  but  there  in  all  its  real  loveliness,  and 
tender,  hallowed  memories  spread  out  like  a sea  of  glass. 
Scarcely  a ripple  a2)pearcd  on  its  smooth  bosom  sparkling  in 
the  full  splendor  of  the  noonday  sun.  We  hurried  the  speed 
of  our  horse.s,  passing  by  the  ruins  of  ancient  Chorazin,  where 
once  mighty  works  of  Christ  were  performed.  The  curse 
fell  upon  it,  and  now  its  desolate  ruins  remain  the  mementos 
of  the  woe  which  befell  it  in  the  times  of  its  sorrow.  (Mat- 
thew xi.  21.)  It  is  now  a desolate  mass  of  basaltic,  rocky  ruins, 
almost  three  miles  distant  from  the  Sea  of  Galilee.  This 
route  from  Khan  Jvbb  Yti-sef  is  a romantic  and  often  even  a 
wild  ])uth.  The  eye  is  surpri.sed  at  the  great  quantities  of 
honey-combed  limestone  rock,  which  pile  up  in  tixanendous 
hills.  Slowly  over  rough  paths  we  hunted  our  Avay  down 
steep  dc'seents,  until  we  had  reached  the  lands  bordering  on 
the  northern  edge  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee.  Though  we  passed 
over  several  miles  of  rough  basaltic  stones,  mingled  with 
round,  weather-worn  limestones,  we  found  the  land  just  north 
of  the  lake  sloping  gently  down  to  the  shore  composed  of 
rich  s(;il,  though  thickly  intermingled  with  stone. 

There  is  no  place  in  all  the  Holy  Land  where  such  a crowd 
of  memories  and  emotions  rush  upon  the  soul  as  beside  the 
Sea  of  Galilee.  There  are  places  of  deeper  pains  and  sorrow  ; 
there  are  spr)ts  where  wild  battle-scem's  come  to  the  imagina- 
tion ; there  are  scenes  of  deeper  isolation  ; but  here  as  nowhere 
else  the  mind  mingles  in  the  sweetest  memories  of  the  life  of 
our  loving  Lord.  Here  the  Savior  found  the  sphere  of  his 
wonderful  mission.  Driven  from  his  native  Xazareth,  and 
too  much  hated  by  the  proud  religionists  of  Jerusalem  to 
labor  there,  he  chose  the  shores  of  this  sacred  water  and  the 
cities  and  country  lying  around  this  inland  sea  as  the  field 

2.3 


354 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


of  his  ministry  and  the  scene  of  his  many  wonderful  works. 
Here,  pressed  by  eager  throngs,  he  sat  in  a boat  on  the  wa- 
ter’s edge,  Avhile  the  narrow  plain  and  abrupt  liill- sides 
were  crowded  with  tlie  peasantry  of  Galilee,  eager  to  listen  to 
the  sweet,  tender  words  of  love,  power,  truth,  and  salvation 
brought  from  the  Father  and  dressed  in  tlu;  sim})le  language 
of  the  peasantry,  and  iiiiageil  forth  with  rapturous  beauty  in 
all  the  facts  of  nature  a'nd  life  surrounding  them.  The  fields, 
the  flowers,  the  sower  as  he  went  out  into  the  plain  of  Gen- 
nesaret,  the  mountains  and  valleys,  were  all  made  to  speak 
the  wonderful  words  of  life.  Tlie  shores  of  this  little  sea  were 


SEA  OF  GAlaLEE  FROM  THE  NOR  III. 


crowded  with  cities,  containing  an  immense  pojmlation.  These 
were  the  common  peojile,  and  were  perhaps  better  prepared  to 
hear  and  receive  the  neiv  gospel  than  any  to  whom  Jesus 
could  have  sjioken.  Their  religious  prejudice  was  h'.ss  intense, 
and  their  life  was  more  Retired  than  that  of  the  southern 
or  more  western  coasts  of  Palestine.  The  retirement  and 
artlessness  of  this  place  and  its  pi'ople  are  all  in  kei'ping  with 
the  spirit  of  the  Master.  The  place  was  free  from  the  memo- 
ries of  conflict  and  battle.  The  population  embraced  men  of 
various  occupations  and  callings.  It  ojiened  to  Jesus  all 
classes  of  the  people,  but  chiefly  those  to  whom  he  had  mo.st 
to  reveal.  And  yet  the  heart  feels  an  oppre.ssion  of  solitude 
along  the  shores  of  this  sweet  water.  Jesus  must  have  often 


SEA  OF  GALILEE. 


355 


experienced  a sense  of  awful  loneliness  in  the  years  of  his 
earthly  life.  There  were  only  a few  who  understood  him  and 
his  charaeter,  or  sympathized  with  his  wonderful  ministry  to 
man.  This  solitude  in  the  life  of  Christ  is  deepened  hy  these 
hills  whieh  tower  up  around  the  patlis  and  valleys  and  cities 
in  whieh  he  walked  and  toiled  and  taught  the  sorrowing  and 
suffering  sons  and  daughters  of  men.  Standing  by  the  placid 
waters  of  this  miniature  sea  over  whieh  Jesus  often  was  driven 
along  hy  the  wind  in  a little  sail- boat;  looking  over  this 
bo.som  of  water  nestling  down  between  mountain  ranges  from 
which  temj)ests  and  .storms  swept  against  the  poor  fishermen 
until  the  waves  went  over  them  and  their  ves.sels  were  filled 
witli  water ; listening  as  if  seeming  to  hear  again  the  voice  of 
the  Master  saying  to  the  winds  and  waves,  I’eace,  l>e  still,” 
when  there  was  a great  calm ; lifting  the  eyes  to  tliat  plateau, 
or  table-land,  north  and  east  of  the  lake  wliere  lie  fed  the 
hungry  thousands  with  a L-w  thin  barley-cakes  and  fishes; 
climbing  over  the  ruins  of  the  ancient  synagogue  into  udiich 
Jesus  so  often  entered  and  where  some  of  his  marvelous  mir- 
acles were  wrought,  one  experiences  a profound  sense  of  the 
real  life  of  Christ  on  earth  Avliich  comes  to  him  nowhere  else 
on  the  globe.  Every  wave  of  the  sea  stealing  out  on  the 
gravelly  beach,  every  whisper  of  the  wind  floating  down  from 
the  hill-sides,  has  a voice  whieh  speaks  tenderly  to  the  soul  as 
one  stands  beside  the  Sea  of  Galilee  and  reads  the  simple  story 
of  the  evangelists  as  they  tell  of  the  life  of  Him  who  hal- 
lowed these  shores  with  his  divine  pre.sence  and  ministry. 

Deeply  interesting  and  tenderly  impressive  as  is  all  about 
the  Sea  of  Galilee,  there  are  few  places  where  the  specific  loca- 
tion of  cities  is  in  greater  uncertainty.  Tiberias  and  Magdala, 
with  Bethsaida  Julius  on  the  east  of  the  Jordan,  are  the  only 
cities  about  the  sea  the  location  of  which  is  determined  with 
certainty.  The  precise  location  of  Chorazin,  Bethsaida,  and 
Capernaum,  in  which  the  mighty  works  of  Christ  were  wrought, 
is  much  disputed,  and  learned  persons  who  have  given  all 
possible  attention  to  the  consideration  of  all  the  information 
coming  down  to  us  from  ancient  times  find  not  a few  objec- 


356 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


tions  to  determining  the  location  of  Capernaum  at  any  of  the 
sites  believed  by  some  to  be  authentic.  Into  these  arguments 
I have  no  disposition  to  enter,  nor  does  it  come  at  all  -within 
the  purpose  of  this  volume. 

I could  not  find  sutHcient  reasons  to  depart  from  the  more 
generally  received  opinion  that  Tel  Hum,  nearest  the  mouth 
of  the  Jordan,  is  the  site  of  ancient  Capernaum.  We  took 
lunch  one  day  at  Tel  Hum,  amid  the  ruins  of  the  supposed 
site  of  Capernaum,  the  head-ipuirters  of  the  Savior  during  his 
ministry,  called  our  Lord’s  “ own  city.”  (INlatthew  ix.  1.) 
This  was  the  Lord's  dwelling-place,  for  we  are  told  that 
“ leaving  Nazareth,  he  came  and  dwelt  in  Capernaum,  which 
is  upon  the  sea-coast.”  (INIatthew  iv.  13.)  Here  are  the  ruins 
of  an  old  church,  built  largely  of  material  which  long  ago 
formed  some  other  structure.  A hundred  yards  or  more  dis- 
tant from  this  huihling,  which  stands  close  to  the  edge  of  the 


KtriNS  OF  A SYNAGOGUE  - CAPERNAUM. 


sea,  are  the  ruins  of  an  ancient  synagogue  of  considerable 
extent.  The  granite-stone  columns,  pedestals,  and  fragments 
of  marble  columns  and  pillars  which  are_  scattered  about  in 
confu.sion,  show  it  to  have  been  long  ago  a structure  of  much 
importance.  The  foundation  remains  well  preserved,  and 
.shows  its  size  to  be  fifty-seven  by  seventy-five  feet.  The 
building  fronted  to  the  south,  and  three  doors  opened  into  as 
many  divisions  of  the  synagogue. 


RUINS  OF  CAPERNAUM. 


3.57 


It  is  altogether  probable  that  these  are  the  ruins  of  the  syn- 
agogue built  for  the  Jews  by  the  centurion  in  whose  behalf 
the  elders  of  the  Jews  came  to  Christ  asking  the  healing  of 
his  servant.  They  pleaded  the  Savior’s  help,  saying,  “That  he 
was  worthy  for  whom  he  should  do  this  ; for  he  loveth  our  na- 
tion, and  hath  Iniilt  us  a synagogue.”  (Luke  vii.  4,  5.)  1 could 
but  remember  how  vastly  the  worthiness  of  this  centurion 
exceeded  that  of  those  who  commended  him ; for  he  was 
himself  a deeidy-humble  man  and  a mighty  believer  in  the 
power  and  divinity  of  Christ.  All  around  Caj)ernaum  are 
black  ruins,  which  tell  of  the  greatness  and  splendor  which 
once  were  here.  Yet  so  desolate  are  these  that  mucli  dispute 
is  held  as  to  whether  indeed  this  be  the  real  site  of  ancient 
Capernaum,  or  of  some  other  city.  There  are  only  a few  rude 
houses  six  or  eight  feet  high,  with  stone  and  mud  walls,  and 
Hat  mud-roofs.  A number  of  half-clad  Arabs  were  upon  these 
root’s  fixing  the  mud,  which  the  women  and  children  were 
carrjdng  to  them.  Of  course  this  business  was  being  carried 
jn  with  the  hands  and  the  feet!  Two  Mohammedan  tombs, 
large  enough  to  contain  many  dead,  stand  at  the  north  of  the 
town.  Upon  visiting  these  we  found  a number  of  half-grown 
children,  of  delicate  features  and  pleasing  countenance,  around 
the  tom’os,  who  saluted  us  with  the  usual  j)lea  for  backshi^th. 

Close  to  the  spot  where  our  company  took  lunch  is  a solitary 
palm-tree,  the  only  green  thing  in  all  the  ruins  of  Capernaum  ! 
How  could  we  forget  the  ministry  of  Jesus  here?  How  often 
he  came  in  from  the  hill  country  of  Galilee  and  found  shelter 
in  the  house  of  Simon  Peter,  and  a little  rest  from  the  weaid- 
.someness  which  must  often  have  oppressed  him!  If  this  be 
indeed  Capernaum,  then  these  ruins  are  those  of  the  syna^ 
gogue  into  which  Jesus  .so  often  entered.  Here  at  his  words 
unclean  spirits  cried  out  and  departed  from  those  they  had 
long  held  in  bondage.  These  ruins  closest  to  us  doubtless  are 
on  the  site  of  the  house  of  Peter.  Once  all  about  it  the  ex- 
cited throngs  passed  here  and  there  to  see  the  wonderful  young 
man  from  over  at  Nazareth,  and  to  behold  his  miracles,  while 
there  on  the  top  of  tl?e  house  the  friends  of  a poor  palsied 


358 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


man  tore  up  the  tiling  and  k-t  the  invalid  down  through  the 
liole  in  the  roof  to  where  Jesus  Avas,  to  he  healed  by  his  tender 
Avords,  “ Son,  thy  sins  he  forgiven.’’  “ Arise,  take  up  thy  bed 
and  go  thy  Avay  into  thine  house.”  (Mark  ii.  1-12.). 

1 find  the  folloAving  in  luy  diary  of  events  and  travel  : “How 
can  I get  aAvay  from  Capernaum  and  the  memories  which  min- 
gle here?  Was  not  this  the  home  of  our  Savior  during  the 
three  years  of  his  ministry  ? Hoav  mueh  he  did,  hoAV  much  he 
taught,  hoAV  much  he  must  have  suffered  in  spirit  here!  And 
just  a feAV  feet  aAvay  from  Avhere  I am  sitting  on  the  ground 
is  the  edge  of  the  beautiful  Sea  of  Galilee.  There  are  wild 
foAvls,  at  Avhich  some  of  our  company  fire  a feAV  harmless 
shots.  In  these  placid  Avaters  beautiful  fishes  skip  and  float 
and  play;  ami  just  here  Peter  once  cast  a hook  to  catch  a 
fish  in  whose  mouth  Avas  a coin  sufficient  to  pay  the  Roman 
tribute  exacted  of  Peter  and  his  illustrious  and  heavenly  Mas- 
ter. Was  there  ever  a life  on  earth  so  poor  as  that  of  Jesus? 
Was  there  ever  a life  Avith  such  resources  as  his?  What  a 
privilege  to  be  here  amid  these  memories  of  our  Lord ! And 
yet  hoAV  sad  the  solemn  history  aa  Inch  folloAved  the  illustrious 
life  and  deeds  of  Jesus  here;  for  with  all  the  gracious  AA'ords 
of  his  Avhich  come  to  us  from  Capernaum,  Avho  can  forget 
those  words  of  aAvful  woe  and  warning?  And  here  amid  the 
desolate  ruins  of  Capernaum,  these  Avords  come  up  Avith  pon- 
derous force ; ‘ And  thou,  Capernaum,  Avhich  art  exalted 

unto  heaven,  shalt  be  brought  doAvn  to  hell : for  if  the  mighty 
works  Avhich  have  been  done  in  thee,  had  been  done  in  Sodom, 
it  Avould  bave  remained  until  this  day.  But  I say  unto  you, 
That  it  shall  be  more  tolerable  for  the  land  of  Sodom  in  the 
day  of  judgment,  than  for  thee.’  (Matthew  xi.  23,  24.) 

“ Jesus  the  Savior  had  become  the  Judge  of  those  Avho  would 
not  receive  him  as  their  Redeemer  and  Lord.  These  desolate 
and  deserted  shores,  and  these  lone,  blackened  ruins  around 
me  are  such  a comment  on  the  Avoe  pronounced  by  Christ  as 
I had  not  thought  to  see.  Here  where  eager  thousands  pressed 
close  after  the  loving  Son  of  God,  now  only  the  bare  feet  of 
Avandering  Bedouins  come  in  their  solitary  tread  ! Here  Avhere 


CHRIST’S  BOUNDLESS  INVITATION. 


359 


wondrous  tlirongs  of  living  hearts  were  touched  by  the  sweet 
words  of  Jesus,  now  are  only  the  black  ruins  of  cities  centu- 
ries buried  in  forgetfulness!  Awful  judgment  has  been  here, 
and  swept  away  the  tide  of  life  and  love  and  prosperit}’,  and 
has  left  only  the  darkest  ruins,  desolation,  solitude,  and  reign- 
ing silence  and  death,  amid  which  I gather  up  the  memories 
of  a once  balmy  and  glorious  day.  No  wonder  that  the  bitter 
■woe  of  Christ  against  Chorazin,  Bethsaida,  and  C;ipernaum, 
as  he,  looking  down  the  vista  of  years,  saw  its  accomplish- 
ment, broke  dowji  his  heart  and  caused  it  to  brood  once  more 
over  the  doomed  cities.  It  was  more  than  Jesus  could  endure. 
And  with  the  fearful  doom  and  destiny  rising  before  his 
vision,  he  gathered  their  miseries,  their  woes,  and  their  sins 
to  his  own  .sorrowing  heart  once  again,  and  stretching  out  his 
arms  of  boundless  compassion  he  exclaimed,  ‘Come  untome, 
all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heav\'  laden,  and  I will  give  you 
rest.  Take  my  yoke  upon  you,  and  learn  of  me;  for  I am 
meek  and  lowly  in  heart : and  ye  shall  find  rest  unto  your 
souls.  For  my  yoke  is  easy,  and  my  burden  is  light.’  (Matt, 
xi.  28-30.)  Who  could  stay  away  from  the  bosom  of  such  a 
Christ!  I see  him  now  as  never  before,  with  eye.s,  and  tears, 
and  words,  and  welcomings  filled  with  the  love  of  ten  thou- 
sand impassioned  hearts,  all  in  one.  He  holds  back  the  tide 
of  every  sorrow  and  every  sin  with  one  arm,  and  with  the 
other  he  draws  me  to  himself.  By  the  toils  of  his  life  about 
this  deep  sea,  by  the  sweat  of  blood  in  Gethsemane,  by  the 
dying  throes  of  the  cross,  by  the  ceaseless,  burning,  throbbing 
love  of  his  heart  which  beat  on  for  me  through  it  all,  and  still 
pleads  for  me  before  the  Father’s  throne,  he  draws  me  out  of 
myself  and  into  his  bosom!  What  soft  •whisper,  deep  and 
delicious  like  a ze]>hyr  from  the  throne  of  God  is  this  that 
sweeps  through  my  own  bosom,  and  there  with  ten  thousand 
voices  echoes,  ‘Come  unto  me/’  Behold,  it  is  the  voice  of  Jesus. 
My  Lord  and  my  God ! Thou  hast  been  standing  here,  but  I 
‘knew  not  that  it  was  Jesus.’  Behold  thou  hast  said,  ‘Come 
and  dine;’  thou  hast  given  bread  even  unto  me.” 


CHAPTER  X. 

Leaving  Capernaum  — Safed  — Citj'on  a Hill  — Springs  — Papyrus — Beth' 
saida  — Bethsaida  Julius  - Plains  ofGennesaret — Lessons  of  the  Land 
of  Gennesaret — Oleander  Groves—  Magdala — Tomb  of  Mary  Magda- 
lene— Ride  along  the  Lake — Tiberias  — Bed-Sick — Home  of  Herod 
— Iniquitj'  of  the  Palace  — City  of  Jewish  Honor — Mishna — Ancient 
City  — View  of  the  Sea  — Size  of  the  Sea  oi  Galilee  — Stortns — Mount- 
ains around  the  Lake  — Steep  Place — Bath  in  the  Sea — Fishes — Leav- 
ing Tiberias — Last  View  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee. 

ROM  C'apei'naum  our  way  lay  along  tlie  north-west 
shore  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee.  Far  up  to  the  riglit  in 
full  view  lies  Safed,  upon  the  slope  of  the  mountain, 

ering  over  all  the  cities  of  Galilee.  It  is  not  men- 

tioned  in  the  Rihle  narrative,  and  whether  or  not  Christ 
i ever  visited  it  is  not  known.  It  lies  ;it  a distance  of  ;dx)ut 
ten  miles  north-west  from  Capernaum.  Nearly  all  the  cities, 
towns,  and  villages  of  the  entire  land  were  built  upon  some 
lofty  elevation.  Our  Savior,  in  his  wonderful  discourse  on  the 
mountain  just  west  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  said  to  his  disciples, 
“Ye  are  the  light  of  the  world.  A city  that  is  set  on  a hill 
can  not  be  hid.”  (Matthew  v.  14.)  Mdiether  Safed  yonder  was 
in  his  thought  in  that  beautiful  illustration  we  can  not  tell ; 
but  surely  from  his  position  on  the  mountain  it  was  in  full 
view,  and  would  readily  lend  marvelous  force  to  his  words  as 
they  fell  on  the  ears  of  his  disciples.  It  stands  on  an  emi- 
nence of  three  thousand  four  hundred  and  fifty-five  feet  above 
the  bosom  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  and  as  I gazed  upon  it  again 
and  again  seated  on  its  lofty  throne,  those  beautiful  words 
of  Christ  came  back  over  and  over  again,  “ A city  that  is  set 
on  a hill  can  not  be  hid;”  and  then  as  never  before  I saw 
the  beauty  and  force  of  those  utterances  of  the  Savior.  Safed 

3fi0 


BETHSAIDA. 


361 


has  an  important  position  in  the  history  of  the  Jewish  wars 
as  well  as  the  crusades. 

A,  ride  of  about  a mile  from  Capernaum  brought  us  to  a 
beautiful  sj)ring,  of  which  all  were  inclined  to  drink.  The 
water,  beautifully  clear,  we  found  to  be  jdeasant,  though  a little 
saltish  and  tepid.  Near  by  we  found  a number  of  springs. 
Large  quantities  of  pai)yrus  grow  here.  It  is  a kind  of  reed 
growing  to  a height  of  eight  or  ten  feet.  It  has  a naked,  trian- 
gular, soft  cellular  stem,  almost  as  thick  at  the  lo\yer  part  as 
one’s  wrist,  but  tapering  to  the  top  and  crowned  with  a cluster 
of  long,  sharp-keeled  leaves.  The  papyrus  is  rarely  to  be  found 
anywhere  else  in  Palestine.  The  ancient  Egyptians  manufac- 
tured a kind  of  paj>er  from  its  inner  bark,  which  was  of  great 
reputation  in  ancient  times.  Some  specimens  of  the  papyrus 
used  for  writing  by  the  Greeks  and  Romans  and  exported  from 
Egypt  in  great  quantities,  are  yet  in  existence.  A quarter  of 
a mile  farther  west  we  came  upon  extended  ruins  surrounded 
by  sj)rings  and  swam})}’  groves  of  })a})yrus  which  mark  the 
traditional  site  of  Bethsaida,  which  was  the  early  home  of 
Peter,  Andrew,  and  Pbili});  for  John  tells  us  that  “ Philij)  was 
of  Bethsaida,  the  city  of  Andrew  and  Peter.”  (John  i.  44.) 
Here  these  illustrious  disciples  of  our  Lord  were  born  and 
reared,  unconscious  of  the  place  they  were  to  have  in  the  sal- 
vation of  the  world.  Beside  these  springs  of  water,  and  even 
this  place  occupied  by  these  ruins,  Jesus  often  walked. 

We  reached  Bethsaida  by  riding  a long  distance  through 
a channel  cut  in  the  solid  rock  on  the  hill-side.  Much  of  the 
way  it  is  about  six  feet  deep  and  about  four  feet  wide.  It  was 
probably  an  aqueduct  to  carry  water  to  the  plain  at  some  re- 
mote perif)d.  A rude  mill  built  of  ancient  ruins  is  turned  by 
Avater  from  the  s}>rings. 

There  was  another  Bethsaida.  This  one  on  the  west  side  of 
the  sea  and  close  by  the  borders  of  the  plain  of  Gennesaret,  is 
not  to  be  confounded  with  Bethsaida  Julius,  situated  on  the 
east  of  the  Jordan,  and  to  the  north-east  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee. 
It  was  enlarged  and  adorned  by  Philip  the  tetrarch,  and 
named  after  Julia,  the  daughter  of  the  emperor.  It  was  close 


362 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


to  thig  Bethsaida  that  Christ  fed  the  five  thousand  of  the 
Aveary  multitude  with  five  loaves  and  two  fishes,  in  “ a desert 
place  belonging  to  the  city  called  Bethsaida.”  (Luke  ix.  10.) 
Into  the  same  city  the  people  brought  unto  him  a blind  man, 
beseeching  that  he  touch  and  heal  him.  Jesus  led  him  out  of 
Bethsaida  by  the  hand  and  healed  him  Avith  the  touch  of  his 
moistened  fingers,  bidding  him  not  to  return  to  the  city,  but 
to  “ go  away  to  his  house.”  (Mark  A’iii.  22-26.)  It  is  hard  to 
turn  away  from  Capernaum  and  Bethsaida,  Avhile  the  memo- 
ries of  the  love  and  life  and  miracles  of  Jesus  linger  in  the 
heart.  Of  the  thirty-six  miracles  Avrought  b}"  the  Master, 
eight  at  least  Avere  performed  at  Capernaum  and  four  at  Beth- 
saida. It  Avas  here  that  the  blind  opened  their  eyes  at  his 
bidding,  the  lame  Avalked  and  leaped  at  his  command,  dumb 
devils  Avere  cast  out  by  his  pOAver.  Great  draughts  of  fishes 
Avere  taken  Avhen  he  directed  the  nets.  The  palsied  forms 
Avere  made  sound,  as  he  spoke  tenderly  the  Avords  of  healing. 
The  unclean  sj)irit  in  the  synagogue  Avas  rebuked  by  the 
blaster  and  came  out  of  the  man.  The  dead  daughter  of 
Jairus  there  at  Capernaum  Avas  brought  back  to  life  Avhen 
Jesus  took  her  by  the  hand.  And  there  the  “Avithered  hand” 
was  at  his  Avord  restonnl  Avhole  as  the  other.  Was  it  not  here 
at  Bethsaida  that  Jesus  shoAved  us  hoAV  to  regard  the  grand- 
mother in  the  home,  by  destroying  the  raging  fever  from 
Avhich  the  mother  of  Peter's  Avife  Avas  dying,  by  kindly  touch- 
ing her  hand?  Here  amid  these  memories  I realize  as  never 
before  that  Jesus  “himself  took  our  infirmities,  and  bare  our 
sicknesses.”  Here  after  his  resurrection  from  Joseph’s  tomb 
he  communed  Avith  his  disciples  as  he  had  done  aforetime,  in 
the  same  body  in  Avhich  he  noAV  appears  to  the  saints  above, 
and  in  AA'hich — oh,  blessed  thought, — Ave  shall  by  and  by  see 
him  eye  to  eye  and  face  to  face.  Yonder  in  the  heavens  to 
Avhich  he  has  gone  our  life  and  all  its  scenes  shall  be  as  real 
a.s  this  plain  and  these  surrounding  hills  and  this  deep,  lovely 
Sea  of  Galilee,  on  wdiich  the  feet  of  Jesus  once  miraculously 
Avalked  to  his  disciples. 

From  Bethsaida,  on  the  Avest  side  of  the  sea,  Ave  rode  across 


PLAIN  OF  GENNESARET. 


363 


the  plains  of  Gennesaret,  a most  delightful  expanse  of  level 
land  stretching  around  the  borders  of  tlie  lake  for  three  miles, 
and  extending  away  from  the  water  almost  two  miles  at  the 
widest  point.  Great  fioeks  of  cattle,  sheep,  and  goats  feed  on 
the  plain  and  shelter  in  the  groves  of  oleanders.  Tliis  is  “ the 
land  of  Gennesaret,”  into  which  Jesus  and  his  disciples  came 
that  terrible  night  when  the  disciples  “in  the  midst  of  the  sea” 
were  tossed  by  the  contrary  winds  unto  the  “ fourth  watcli  of 
the  night,”  after  which  Jesus  came  to  them  Avalking  on  the 
crested  waves  of  the  storm-driven  sea,  saying,  “ It  is  I;  be  not 
afraid.”  (Mat.  xiv.  27  ] 34.)  I'rom  tliis  whole  region  the  sick 
were  carried  on  beds  to  Jesus  as  soon  as  they  heard  that  he  w'as 
come,  “and  whithersoever  he  enten-d,  into  villages,  or  cities,  or 
country,  they  laid  tlie  sick  in  the  streets,  and  besought  him 
that  they  might  touch  if  it  were  but  the  border  of  his  garment : 
and  as  many  as  touched  him  were  made  whole.”  (Mark  vi.  56.) 
This  plain  is  one  of  the  finest  spots  in  all  Palestine.  To  it 
the  “sower  went  forth  to  sow,"  as  described  in  the  parable  of 
our  Lord  uttered  at  Capernaum.  (Matthew  xiii.  1-23.)  In 
it  the  tares  sprung  up  amid  the  wheat  until  the  servants  of 
the  householder  wished  to  go  and  gather  them  up.  (Matthew 
xiii.  24-30,  and  36-43.)  It  was  here  that  the  hu.sbandman  put 
in  the  sickle  because  the  harvest  was  come.  (Mark  iv.  29.)  In 
this  beautiful  plain  sprung  up  the  “grain  of  mustard-seed, 
which  a man  took,  and  sowed  in  bis  field,”  which  grew  so  lux- 
uriantly that  it  became  a tree  in  which  the  fowls  of  heaven 
took  shelter,  though  that  seed  was  the  smallest  of  all  the  seeds 
sown  in  this  fertile  plain.  Thus  did  Jesus  here  admit  to  his 
disci])les  that  the  kingdom  of  heaven  and  the  influences  of 
grace  were  small  in  their  beginning,  but  showed  them  that 
the  i)rinciples  of  life  and  growth  w'ould  make  them  the  j)rotec- 
tion  of  the  nations  of  the  earth.  (Matthew  xiii.  31,  32.) 
Doubtless  it  was  thus  from  this  beautiful  land  of  Gennesaret 
that  the  Savior  drew  those  blessed  parables  so  full  of  j>recious 
instruction.  Now  groves  of  oleanders  in  full  and  beautiful 
bloom  appear  on  either  side  of  the  way  for  a great  distance  as 
we  ride  along  a little  way  from  the  sea.  I [jlucked  some  of 


364 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


their  beautiful  clusters  of  bloom  and  rode  on  to  Magdala,  just 
at  the  southern  end  of  the  plain.  Magdala  nestles  close  under 
the  steeji  hills  which  project  down  by  the  water’s  edge.  This 
is  the  home  of  Mary  Magdalene,  to  whom  Jesus  first  appeare  1 
after  his  resurrection,  and  to  the  .<itatement  of  which  fact, 
as  if  to  encourage  all  despairing  sinners,  Mark  appends 
the  words,  “ Out  of  whom  he  had  cast  seven  devils.”  (Mark 
xvi.  9.)  It  was  she,  al.-^o,  who  with  Joanna,  the  wife  of  Chuza, 
Herod’s  steward,  and  Susanna,  ministered  unto  Je.sus  of  their 
substance,  in  times  of  his  earthly  need.  (Luke  viii.  2,  3.) 

Immediately  after  the  feeding  of  the  four  thousand  on  the 
east  side  of  the  lake  by  Jesus,  with  the  seven  loaves  and  five 
fishes,  and  the  sending  of  the  midtitude  away,  “ lie  took  ship 
and  came  unto  the  coasts  of  Magdala.”  (Matthew  xv.  39.) 
It  is  known,  also,  under  the  name  of  “ Dalmanutha.”  (i\lark 
A'iii.  10.)  It  is  now  known  by  the  name  of  Mejdel.  Close  to 
the  town  in  a level  spot  of  land  is  a square  stone  structure 
which  it  is  asserted  marks  the  grave  of  Mary  Magdalene. 
AVho  can  tell?  It  is  of  course  of  rude  modern  structure.  I 
examined  it  carefully  and  found  it  suhstantialh'  built  of 
stone,  and  about  ten  or  twelve  feet  square.  The  town  is 
of  but  little  importance,  and  a dozen  children,  mostly  half 
naked,  came  out  calling  for  ^Omcksfiish."  Two  of  tliem,  about 
twelve  years  old,  were  entirely  naked.  Not  more  than  twenty 
huts  com2>ose  the  present  town  of  Magdala.  -Just  before 
reaching  it,  as  we  rode  along  the  .shore  of  the  sea,  we  saw  three 
fishing-boats,  one  or  two  of  Avhich  we  tried  to  hire,  with  a 
view  of  making  the' journey  by  water  to  Tiberias,  where  we 
were  to  camp ; but  we  could  not  effect  a contract  with  the 
fishermen,  and  so  continued  our  way  on  horseback  along  the 
western  shore  of  the  sea.  Sometimes  we  were  down  in  a nar- 
row plain  close  to  the  sea,  and  then  again  we  climbed  winding 
and  narrow  paths  far  up  the  rugged  hills  which  project  down 
to  the  sea.  Thus  as  the  sun  was  sinking  below  the  hills  of  Gal- 
ilee, our  eyes  would  sometimes  look  back  upon  the  groves  of 
oleander  toward  Bethsaida;  then  upon  the  rocky  steeps  to  our 
right,  cut  and  carved  full  of  tombs;  then  far  across  the  sea 


TIBERIAS. 


365 


to  the  hills  of  Gadara  on  the  eastern  side  as  their  grayish 
shoulders  were  bathed  in  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun.  Then 
all  the  time  here  lay  close  to  us  on  the  left  the  calm  sea,  over 
whose  shining  bosom  little  waves  and  rii)ples  played,  while 
winding  through  the  midst  of  the  sea  appeared  the  tortuous 
course  of  the  Jordan,  the  waters  of  which  How  through  the  sea 
without  commingling  with  it.  Here  and  there  the  forms  of 
clouds,  which  seemed  like  photographs,  rested  calmly  on  the 
bosom  of  the  water.  Here  on  this  beautiful  sea,  shut  in  by 
these  surrounding  hills,  the  Savior  often  rode  with  his  disci- 
j)lcs  passing  from  one  shore  to  the  other.  On  these  shores 
and  heights  the  multitude  thronged  with  eagerness  to  hear 
his  wonderful  words  as  he  sat  in  a shij)  and  spoke  to  the  crowd 
upon  the  shore.  (Matthew  xiii.  2.)  And  once  here,  when  the 
affrighted  disciples  Avoke  the  iMaster  Avho  lay  asleep  in  the 
hinder  part  of  the  ship,  he  calmed  the  mad  billows  by  his 
gentle  voice.  And  once- when  their  boat  was  tossed  hard  and 
long  by  the  storm  and  Avaves,  Jesus  came  to  them  Avalking  on 
the  crested  water,  one  foaming  billow  after  another  bearing  up 
the  holy  feet  of  the  Son  of  God  until  the  disciples  kneAv  it 
was  their  Lord.  The  surroundings  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee  are 
not  so  beautiful  as  those  of  some  of  the  lakes  I visited,  but 
they  are  striking;  and  there  is  an  air  of  beauty  baptized  in 
sacredness  Avhich  makes  this  spot  enrapturing  to  the  lover  of 
Jesus. 

A ride  of  four  miles  from  Magdala  along  the  sea  of  Galilee 
brought  us  to  the  ancient  city  of  Tiberias,  noAV  called  Taberi- 
yeh.  We  rode  through  its  northern  gate  and  along  one  of  its 
narrow,  dingy  streets  to  the  southern  end  of  the  city  passing 
out  into  the  plain  beloAv,  and  pitched  our  tents  on  a pretty, 
level  spot  of  land  on  the  shore  of  the  sea  a quarter  of  a mile 
south  of  the  town.  In  all  our  journeying  in  the  Holy  Land, 
no  such  delightful  spot  Avas  enjoyed.  We  were  free  from  the 
fleas  which  inhabit  Tiberias,  and  had  before  us  the  placid, 
calm  blue  Sea  of  Galilee. 

In  the  eA'ening  as  I came  into  the  tent  from  a Avalk  about 
the  sea,  I saw  that,  instead  of  my  usual  bed  I had  a pallet 


366 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


on  the  ground.  Somehow  a bed-stead  had  been  broken  that 
day.  Joseph  came  with  sad  jestures,  saying,  “ Bed  sick,  bed 
sick!’.’  I replied  that  he  should  give  “ bed  medicine;  much 
medicine.”  He  only  answered,  “No,  bed  bad  sick;  bad  sick!” 
And  so  the  bed  was  sick;  and  after  wandering  along  the  peb- 
bly shore  of  the  hallowed  sea  till  far  into  the  night,  picking 
up  a shell  here  and  there,  and  turning  over  many  hallowed 
thoughts  and  sacred  memories  of  Him  Avho  once  walked  in 
Galilee,  I was  glad  to  sink  to  rest  on  the  little  pallet  on  the 
ground,  assured  that  .Jesus  was  not  far  away. 

Tiberias  was  built  l\y  Herod  Antipas,  who  murdered  John 
the  Baptist,  and  named  it  in  honor  of  the  Emperor  Tiberius. 
Here  Herod  in  his  luxury  and  pride  lived  in  adultery  with 
Herodias,  his  brother  Philip’s  wife,  while  the  heroic  messenger 
John  the  Baptist,  bold  to  preach  repentance,  declared  that 
this  marriage  was  unlawful  and  wicked.  Only  those  who 
have  peculiar  grace  from  God  appreciate  that  most  royal  of  all 
friendships  which  points  out  to  us  our  faults;  and  Herod,  filled 
with  anger,  imprisoned  John  in  the  Tower  of  Maehterus,  east 
of  the  Jordan.  .\nd  here  at  Tiberias,  in  tlie  royal  palace, 
Salome,  the  daughter  of  Herodias,  danced  at  the  birthday  feast 
of  Herod,  to  his  pleasure,  until  his  rash  oath  was  fulfilled  in 
the  murder  of  the  noblest  prophet  of  God  to  appease  the  wrath 
and  revenge  of  Herod's  incestuous  wife.  And  here  to  Tibe- 
rias John’s  “head  was  brought  in  a charger,  and  given  to  the 
damsel : and  she  brought  it  to  her  mother.”  (Matt.  xiv.  11.) 
Herod  and  Hcrodius  were  afterward  banished  to  Spain  by  the 
emperor  for  conspiracy,  where  they  died  in  friendless  exile. 

Tiberias  is  now  a walled  town  containing  about  three  thou- 
sand inhabitaut.s,  more  than  half  of  whom  are  Jews,  while  the 
greater  part  of  the  others  are  Greeks  and  Catholics.  Its  Avails 
are  about  tAventy  feet  high  and  soA'cn  feet  thick,  but  in'many 
places  are  fallen  doAvn,  having  been  greatly  injured  by  the 
earthquake  of  1837,  in  Avhich  the  entire  city  Avas  av ell-nigh 
demolished  and  almost  one  half  of  its  poinilation  destroyed. 
There  are  four  gates  to  the  city — one  on  the  north,  one  on  the 
west,  and  one  at  the  south,  Avhile  a fourth,  on  the  east  side, 


ANCIENT  TIBERIAS. 


367 


opens  upon  the  sea.  The  wall  on  the  east  side  is  built  directly 
upon  the  sea-coast.  Not  less  than  eight  strong,  round  towers 
strengthen  the  stone  walls.  Tiberias,  after  the  time  of  Chidst, 
became  a noted  city  in  the  history  of  this  country.  Josephus 
fortified  it  strongly  in  the  wars  he  conducted,  though  the  city 
was  peacefully  surrendered  to  Vespasian,  who  therefore  allowed 
the  .lews  thereafter  to  reside  here  undisturbed.  The  Sanhedrim 
was  ultimately  brought  here,  and  about  A.  D.  200  the  re- 
nowned Jewish  school,  or  .ludah  Ilah-Kadosh,  committed  to 
writing  and  published  the  ancient  Jewish  traditional  law 
known  as  the  Mishna.  Many  learned  rabbis  lived  here,  and 
the  tomb  of  the  Jewish  writer  Maimonides,  of  the  twelfth 
century,  is  still  j’ointcd  out  in  the  -Jewish  burial-ground  a 
n;'le  west  of  Tiberias.  A mile  couth  of  Tiberias  are  the  cel- 
ebrated hot  si>rings  whieh  burst  from  under  the  hills  a hun- 
dred paces  from  the  sea-shore.  The  temperature  of  the  water 
is  one  hundn'd  and  thirty-seven  degrees.  The  place  is  a great 
resort  for  ])crsons  who  seek  the  baths  connected  with  the 
springs.  The  ancient  city  of  Tiberias,  no  doubt,  extended  as 
far  south  as  the.se  springs.  We  found  traces  of  ancient  ruins 
all  along  the  ])lain  in  which  we  Avere  camped,  which  is  from 
si.x  hundred  to  one  thousand  feet  wide.  The  Tiberias  of  to- 
day is  an  uninviting,  dirty,  squalid  town,  of  Avhieh  one  soon 
secs  (piite  enough.  One  of  our  company  Avas  quite  ill  Avhile 
here.  We  semt  to  town  for  a -TcAvish  doctor.  A short,  chunky, 
black-eyed  doctor  came  to  our  camp  and  administered  large 
doses  of  medicine.  Our  company  had  exhausted  our  supply 
and  AA'ere  an.xious  to  have*  some  other  dependence  on  Avhich 
at  least  Ave  could  place  our  hopes.  The  little  doctor  was  quite 
sanguine,  and  gave  many  good  jjromises  that  the  patient 
would  be  better  in  the  morning.  Quite  as  he  promi.sed,  our 
patient  Avas  much  better  Avhen  morning  came.  The  doctor 
was  also  much  better  off  upon  our  leaving;  for  he  had  the 
shreAvdne.ss  to  make  a liberal  charge,  Avhich  though  quite 
unreasonable  Avas  cheerfully  paid. 

Here  and  there  through  the  city  a stately  palm  rears  its 
lofty  head.  So  far  as  i-!  known,  Tiberias  Avas  never  visited  by 


368 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


our  Lord,  and  yet  it  is  the  only  city  of  his  day  on  the  Sea  of 
Galilee  which  remains  as  a city  to  greet  the  anxious  traveler. 
Probably  the  occasional  residence  of  Herod  here,  with  the 
conditions  of  gentile  society,  prevented  the  Savior's  feet  from 
ever  treading  its  streets.  Was  our  Master  afi-aid  of  the  mur- 
derer of  -John  the  Baptist?  Herod  heard  much  of  Clirist,  and 
was  anxious  to  behold  some  miracle  performed  by  him  (Luke 
xxiii.  8)  : but  thougli-  the  Lord  stood  before  Herod  at  Je- 
rusalem at  the  time  of  his  trial,  and  was  questioned  “ in 
many  words,”  yet  “ he  answered  him  nothing.”  He  was  one, 
at  least,  of  all  Jesus  met  to  whom  he  would  not  utter  his  gra- 
cious words.  (Luke  xxiii.  9.) 

The  view  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  sometimes  called  the  ‘‘  Sea 
of  Tiberias'’  (John  vi.  1;  xxi.  1),  and  in  the  Old  Testament 
“Chinnereth”  (Numbers  xxxiv.  11;  John  xii.  3),  from 
the  hill  above  Tiberias  is  delightful.  The  lake  is,  accord- 
ing to  Lieutenant  Conder,  twelve  and  a half  miles  long, 
and  at  its  widest  point  six  miles.  The  greatest  distance  across 
it  is  almost  opposite  Magdala,  while  it  becomes  narrower  at  the 
south.  Its  level  is  six  hundred  and  eigbty-two  feet  below  the 
level  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea.  It  gradually  deepens  from 
the  shore  on  either  side,  and  at  its  greatest  depth  as  measured 
by  Lynch,  is  one  hundred  and  sixty-tive  feet.  As  in  ancient 
times,  so  now,  furious  storms  often  rush  down  from  the 
mountains  upon  the  lake  in  a most  fearful  and  terrific  man- 
ner, greatly  endangering  the  safetj"  of  any  ships  which  may 
be  on  its  waters.  (Luke  viii.  23.)  Recent  travelers  have  ex- 
perienced these  sudden  storms;  but  during  our  visit  there  was 
a perfect  calm,  even  as  when  the  Master  “ rebuked  the  wind 
and  the  raging  of  the  water : and  they  ceased,  and  there  was 
a calm.”  (Luke  viii.  24.)  On  the  east  of  the  sea  the  mount- 
ains are  somewhat  higher  and  more  abrupt  than  on  the  west, 
reaching  a height  of  about  two  thousand  feet.  A narrow 
plain  skirts  the  sea,  setting  the  hills  back  a little  wa}’  from 
the  shore.  Almost  directly  opposite  Tiberias,  on  the  eastern 
side,  the  mountain  projects  to  the  edge  of  the  sea,  and  modern 
travelers  identify  this,  with  much  and  reasonable  assurance. 


THE  SEA  OE  GALILEE. 


369 


as  the  place  where,  “ Behold,  the  whole  herd  of  swine  ran  vio- 
lently down  a steep  place  into  the  sea,  and  perished  in  the 
waters."’  (iMutthcw  viii.  32 ; i\Iark  v.  13 ; Luke  viii.  33.)  On 
the  west  side  of  the  sea  the  hills  rise  more  gradually  and  not 
to  so  great  height  as  the  mountains  of  Oadara. 

On  the  morning  of  Xovemher  10th  I arose  early  from  my 
pallet  and  sought  agein  the  sea-shore.  Taking  a bath,  I found 
the  water  warm  and  exceedingly  pleasant.  The  gravelly 
heach,  si»rinklt"d  with  shells,  slopes  gently  down  to  the  water’s 
edge,  and  for  a great  distance  one  can  wade  out  into  the  sea 


VIEW  OF  THE  SEA  OF  GALILEE  FROM  TIBERIAS. 

before  it  becomes  deep  enough  to  swim.  The  sea  abounds 
with  fish,  which  are  caught  in  great  numbers  about  the  upper 
or  northern  end,  where  they  are  fed  by  the  .Jordan.  We  jmr- 
chased  a handsome  mess  of  fish  caught  from  the  sea,  by  the 
“ fishermen  of  Galilee,”  but  have  often  eaten  quite  as  good  in 
America. 

From  the  Sea  of  Galilee  we  determined  to  hasten  our  course 
westward  to  Nazareth,  the  childhood  home  of  Jesus.  We  rode 
through  Tiberias  northward  a little  way,  and  then  ascended 

24 


370 


THE  HOTA'  LAND. 


the  hills  toward  the  west.  Some  time  before  reaching  the 
IMount  of  Beatitudes,  we  had  our  last  view  of  the  Sea  of 
Galilee.  Its  smooth,  broad,  blue  surface,  nestled  between  the 
hills  and  mountains,  sparkling  in  the  rays  of  the  ascending 
sun,  lay  like  a mirror,  reflecting  in  its  bosom  the  memory  of 
the  walks,  miracles,  love,  and  .sorrow  of  Jesus,  who  once  trod 
its  shores,  and  whose  teachings  and  miracles  make  it  the  most 
hallowi'd  sea  of  the  woi'ld.  Driven  from  his  native  city,  Naza- 
reth, he  crossed  these  hills  into  the  cities  which  lay  ii})on  the 
shore  of  tin*  sea,  and  here  began  his  wonderful  ministry.  Call- 
ing his  disciples  from  among  the  fishermen  of  Galilee,  he  by 
day  aiul  night,  on  land  and  sea,  among  tlie  living  and  the  dy- 
ing and  the  dead,  by  his  teachings,  his  miracles,  and  his  love, 
showed  himself  to  be  the  Son  of  God.  Was  it  not  here  that 
he  came  again  after  the  mystery  and  agony  of  death  were  past 
and  he  had  risen  from  Joseph's  new  tomb,  to  meet  his  disci- 
ples who  in  their  sorrow  had  gone  hack  to  their  old  homes 
and  former  employment ! John  adds  a chapter  to  his  gospel 
on  puri>ose  to  tell  the  tender,  touching  story  of  Christ's  ap- 
pearance to  Peter,  Thomas,  Nathaniel,  James,  and  John  on 
the  water,  where  they  toiled  all  night  but  caught  nothing. 
There  hv  the  shore  the  disciples  stood  around  the  fire  on 
which  were  the  bread  and  fish  which  the}’  received  from  the 
Master,  “knowing  that  it  was  the  Lord.”  (John  xxi.  12.) 
There  were  other  scenes  awaiting  me,  yet  it  was  with  3 sad 
heart  that  I turned  my  eyes  from  the  Sea  of  Galilee!  No- 
where else  should  I mingle  again  with  such  memories;  no- 
Avhere  else  touch  the  paths  so  often  trod  by  the  footsteps  of 
my  loving  Lord.  Not  even  the  view  from  Mount  Olivet 
touched  my  heart  to  such  tenderness  as  I felt  when  the  thea- 
ter of  the  Master’s  toil  and  teachings  lay  in  such  soft  and 
mellow  beauty  before  me.  I sorrowed  to  turn  from  the  last 
look  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  for  upon  its  bosom,  overspread 
with  such  hallowed  memories,  I should  never  look  again ! 

“Oh,  Galilee!  sweet  Galilee! 

Where  Jesus  loved  so  much  to  be; 

Oh.  Galilee!  blue  Galilee! 

Come  sing  thy  song  again  to  me!” 


CHAPTER  XI. 


^lountain  of  Beatitudes  — Women  Riding  — Cana  of  (ralilee— Christ’s 
First  Miracle  — Xobleman’s  Son  Healed — Water-pots  — Well  — 
Women  Wasliing — Jonali’s  Town  — Tomb  of  Jonah  — First  View  of 
Nazareth  — Cliild-liome  of  Jesus  — Population  of  Nazareth  — Dress  of 
Women  — View  from  the  Hill  — Grotto  of  Annunciation  — Sj’nagogue 
— Jesus  Rejected  — Brow  of  tlie  Hill  — At  the  Well  — Bake-oven. 

y^'^^^j^FTER  about  an  liour's  rido  front  Tiltorias  wo  came 
upon  a tiiblo-land  or  jdatoau,  on  wliicli  in  July,  1187, 
tlio  Franks  were  defotitod  in  a fearful  con  diet  l)y  Sala- 
din.  Rising  above  the  itlatoau  is  a loftier  bill,  whieli 
It  from  its  peculiar  shape  lia.s  betm  called  tbo  Horns  of 
llattin.  Since  the  time  of  the  crusaders,  this  has  been 
traditionally  regarded  as  the  mountain  upon  which  Jesus 
preached  his  wonderful  discourse.  (Matthew  v.  1.)  I was 
compelled  to  regard  much  that  I had  read  about  the  adapta- 
tion of  this  location  to  the  discourse  as  (piite  fanciful,  yet 
doubtless  it  was  somewhere  upon  one  of  the.se  tallest  points 
that  Jesus  deliverecl  that  most  wonderful  of  all  his  di.scourses. 

For  three  hours  we  rode  over  hills  and  valleys  poorly  culti- 
vated. On  our  way  we  met  a royal  train  traveling  across  the 
country.  The  pasha  rode  ahead,  attended  by  his  guards, 
while  some  distance  behind  came  a great  camel  with  a kind 
of  frame  and  covering  almost  as  large  as  a l>uggy-top  upon 
its  back,  in  which  two  nicely-clad  ladies  sat  side  by  side, 
perched  away  up  in  the  air.  Our  ride  brought  us  to  Cana 
of  Galilee,  the  native  toAvn  of  Xathanael  (John  xxi.  2),  and 
the  place  honored  by  Christ  in  his  attendance  upon  a mar- 
riage feast,  and  by  the  performance  of  his  first  miracle  (-John 
ii.  1).  “And  the  mother  of  Jesus  was  there.”  She  had  only 

371 


372 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


a little  more  than  three  miles  to  come  from  Nazareth.  It 
Avas  also  to  this  place  that  the  nobleman  from  Capernaum 
came  to  meet  the  Savior,  having  heard  that  he  Avas  come  from 
Galilee,  and  asked  him  to  “ come  down  and  heal  his  son ; for 
he  Avas  at  the  point  of  death.”  (.John  iv.  47.)  Here  the  Savior 
healed  the  lad  by  the  simple  Avords,  “ Thy  son  liveth.”  So 
great  and  immediate  Avas  the  cure,  though  Christ  Avas  many 
miles  from  the  afflicted  youth,  that  the  nobleman  on  his  Avay 
returning  to  Capernaum,  met  his  serAuints  coming  Avith  the 
blessed  tidings  Avhich  Avere  an  echo  of  the  Savior’s  Avords, 
“ Thy  son  liA'eth.”  (John  iv.  51.)  This  is  the  only  instance 
of  a miracle  by  Christ  performed  AA'hen  he  Avas  at  so  great  a 
distance  from  the  object  of  his  compassion. 

Cana  is  noAV  knoAvn  by  the  name  Kcfr  Kenna,  and  is  situated 
on  the  Avestern  slope  of  a hill,  having  aliout  forty  or  fifty  stone 
houses,  AvliitcAvashed  so  as  to  present  a tasteful  ajipearance. 
A Greek  church  teAvnty-five  by  fifty  feet  and  fifteen  feet  high, 
near  the  lower  edge  of  the  town,  claims  to  occupy  the  site  of 
the  dAvelling  Avhere  the  marriage  attended  by  Christ  Avas  held. 
Ba’  the  door  on  the  south  side  is  the  half  of  a Corinthian  cap- 
ital in  the  wall,  Avhile  in  a niche  in  the  Avail  hangs  a little 
bell.  The  room  Avitliin  is  a rude  chapel,  at  one  side  of  Avhich 
stand  tAvo  old  stone  mortars,  holding  about  eight  or  ten  gal- 
lons, said  to  he  the  identical  “ Avater-pots  of  stone”  (John  ii. 
6)  in  Avhich  the  Avater  was  turned  into  Avine.  If  one  Avere 
disposed  to  accept  the  tradition,  he  Avould  at  once  find  trouble 
in  the  smallness  of  these  stone  tubs.  John  tells  us  that  they 
held  “tAvoor  three  firkins  apiece” — from  eighteen  to  tAA’enty- 
fiA’e  gallons  each, — while  these  are  only  half  the  required  size. 
They  are  filled  Avith  Avater  and  used  by  the  Greek  priests  for 
the  immersion  of  children.  Below  the  toAvn  a little  way  is  the 
A'illage  spring.  Near  it  is  a large  stone  sarcophagus,  into  which 
women  Avere  pouring  Avater  while  donkeys  and  cattle  stood  by 
drinking.  From  the  spring  a channel  is  Availed  up  Avith  stone, 
having  a stone  bottom  through  Avhich  the  water  flows  slowly 
from  the  spring.  In  this  channel  and  quite  up  into  the 
spring  women  and  children  were  engaged  in  Avashing  their 


FIRST  VIEW  OF  NAZARETH. 


373 


clothes,  while  others  were  filling  their  jars  and  bottles  Avith 
the  water  and  carrying  it  away  to  their  homes.  The  wash- 
ing is  done  by  putting  the  clothes  in  the  water  and  getting 
on  them  and  tramping  them  for  awhile,  and  then  laying  them 
on  a stone  and  pounding  them  with  another  smooth  stone 
Avith  all  the  might.  Stout,  ugly  AA'omen  and  poorly-clad  chil- 
dren Avere  busy  AA'ashing  in  this  miserable  manner.  It  is  not 
at  all  to  be  supposed  that  clothes  AA'ashed  iii  this  AA’ay  are  ever 
made  clean. 

A little  Xvay  from  “Cana  of  Galilee”  (there  is  another  vil- 
lage tAvelve  miles  north  of  Nazareth  called  Ka-na-el-Jilil, — 
Kana)  Ave  took  lunch  in  a splendid  orchard  of  oli\'es,  palms, 
and  oranges.  I Avas  much  surprised  by  a visit  from  a girl, 
probably  fourteen  years  old,  Avho  came  into  the  orchard  from 
an  adjoining  dwelling  and  begged  us  for  an  English  book. 
Upon  examination  Ave  found  that  she  could  read  English  a 
little.  Upon  our  questioning  her  she  told  us  that  she  had 
been  in  the  mission-school  at  Nazaretli  a short  time,  and  had 
learned  to  read  English.  She  could  also  talk  a little  English. 
Tavo  miles  from  Cana  Ave  came  to  El  Meshhed,  the  native  toAvn 
of  Jonah,  called  Gath-hepber  (II.  Kings  xiv.  25),  and  men- 
tioned in  the  time  of  .Joshua  as  belonging  to  the  tribe  of 
Zebulun.  (Joshua  xix.  13.)  It  is  a pleasant  town,  much  the 
same  as  Cana.  We  rode  off  to  the  left  of  the  road  a short 
distance  to  a stone  structure,  some  ten  or  tAvelve  feet  .square. 
One  si'le  of  the  structure  is  open  and  the  tomb  Avithin  is 
neatly  AvhiteAvashed,  Avhile  close  by  is  a lamp  kept  constantly 
burning.  This,  we  Avere  told,  is  the  tomb  of  the  Prophet 
Jonah.  lie  has  several  other  tombs  in  this  country. 

Contented  Avith  a -A-erv  short  time  at  the  tomb  of  .Jonah, 
I reined  my  horse  and  hastened  over  the  hills  of  Galilee, 
a mile  farther  on,  when  suddenly,  looking  southward  and 
AvestAvard,  a.  half  mile  away,  in  a kind  of  coA'e,  full  in  view 
lay  Nazareth,  the  early  home  of  our  Lord.  Its  narroAV,  wind- 
ing streets  and  neat  Avhite  dAvellings  Avith  flat  roofs,  mounted 
Avith  little  domes  looking  like  great  inverted  saucers,  pre- 
sented the  most  beautiful  little  city  my  eyes  had  looked  upon 


VIEW  OF  NAZABETH.  374 


CHILD-HOME  OF  JESUS. 


37o 


in  the  Holy  Land.  I was  jirohahly  near  the  same  spot  from 
which  Jesus  last  saw  his  childhood  home,  when  driven  from 
it  by  the  wicked  Jews  among  whom  he  had  grown  up  to  man- 
hood, subject  to  his  parents.  For  a good  while  I stood  gaz- 
ing upon  this  little  city  nestling  against  the  hill  before  I 
could  realize  that  the  home  of  Joseph  and  Mary  really  lay 
before  me.  Then  we  slowly  descemled  the  winding  road, 
passing  by  great  cacti  fences  and  hedges,  and  sought  our  tents, 
close  beside  the  Virgin’s  Fountain,  beneath  some  old  olive- 
trees,  on  a beautiful  level  sj^ot  of  land. 

There  is  no  place  where  it  is  so  difficult  to  fully  realize  that 
Christ  was  a little  child  as  when  one  climbs  up  and  walks 
through  the  steep,  narroAv,  crooked  streets  of  Nazareth,  where 
was  the  home  of  IMar}’,  the  mother  of  Jesus,  and  where  Jesus 
himself  had  his  home  for  nearly  thirty  years.  The  town  is 
not  large,  and  I had  time  to  trace  out  almost  every  street  of 
the  place  Avhere  Christ  spent  most  of  his  time  while  on  earth. 
Can  it  he  that  Jesus  once  lived  here,  and  lu-re  Avith  his 
reputed  father  w'orked  at  the  carpenter’s  trade?  Can  it  he 
that  about  these  -streets,  thronged  Avith  women  and  children, 
the  child  Jesus,  Avith  Mar}’  his  mother,  often  Avalkcd  and 
talked,  much  as  these  do  uoav  ? It  cost  me  an  effort  to  realize 
this.  But  such  is  the  truth.  God  Avas  Avalking  among  men 
Avhen  they  kncAV  him  not.  Humanity  Avas  having  given  to  it 
a dignity  Avhich  Avas  before  unknoAvn.  Nazareth,  the  desi)i.<ed 
toAvn  of  Galilee,  Avas  the  earth-home  of  the  Lord's  Christ. 

The  hills  about  Nazareth  form  almost  an  entire  circle,  broken 
here  and  there  by  declivities.  The  A’alley  lying  Avithin  this 
circle  contains  Nazareth.  This  little  A’alley,  perhaps  almost  a 
mile  Avide,  is  itself  someAvhat  undulating.  To  the  north  of 
the  circle,  and  far  up  on  the  .«lope  of  the  northern  and  highest 
paxt  of  the  hill,  lies  the  toAvn  resting  in  the  sun-light,  Avhich 
shines  directly  in  its  streets  against  the  hill  all  the  early  part 
of  the  day.  The  great  green  cactus,  forming  strong  fences 
here  and  there  about  orchards  of  olive  and  fig  trees,  jiresents 
a charm  and  beauty  of  frame-Avork  around  the  Avhite  Avails  and 
houses  of  Nazareth.  After  looking  at  toivns  composed  of 


376 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


rough  stones,  or  of  houses  of  mud,  for  days,  the  white  build- 
ings of  Xazareth  shone  in  the  sun  with  real  beauty;  and 
with  the  first  sight  I felt  to  exclaim,  “A  beautiful  city  — a 
fitting  home  of  quiet  for  our  Lord  on  earth  before  enterin^^ 
upon  his  ministi’}’ ! ” 

The  present  Nazareth  doubtless  occupies  tiie  same  site  as 
the  city  of  Christ's  time,  though  it  must  be  much  smaller  now 
than  then.  At  present  it  has  nearly  six  thousand  inhabitants 
crowded  togetlier  in  a small  area.  Of  these  two  thousand  are 
said  to  be  Mohammedans,  while  two  thousand  five  hundred 
are  orthodox  Greek  Christians.  Besides  these*  there  are  about 
two  hundred  United  Greeks,  eight  hundred  Latins,  eighty 
Maronites,  and  one  hundred  Protestants.  While  a few  of  the 
peojile  are  craftsmen,  mo.st  are  farmers,  and  cultivate  the  hills 
around  Nazareth  or  go  farther  south  a few  miles  to  the  great 
plain  of  Esdraelon,  where  there  is  abundance  of  land.  The 
houses  are  of  stone,  almost  white,  and  are  so  closely  crowded 
together  that  the  town  is  scarcely  a fourth  of  a mile  in  length 
or  breadth.  Yet  so  crooked  and  narrow  are  the  streets  that  a 
stranger  would  easily  be  lost  in  them.  There  are  but  few 
streets  moi'e  than  barely  wide  enough  for  two  p(*rsons  to  pass 
on  horseback  in  meeting  each  other.  Walking  through  the 
city,  I was  afraid  of  being  trodden  under  the  feet  of  the  camels 
passing  with  their  burdens.  When  riding,  I had  a constant 
fear  lest  the  horse  should  run  on  some  of  the  women  and  chil- 
dren which  throng  the  streets.  The  streets,  like  all  towns  in 
this  countiy,  are  extremely  filthy.  The  people  live  in  the  sim- 
plest 2)Ossible  manner.  Some,  indeed  many,  of  the  houses  can 
hardly  be  said  to  have  doors.  They  have  openings,  two  and  a 
half  by  three  feet  in  height  and  width,  through  which  the 
families  creep  when  going  in  or  coming  out.  They  spend 
much  of  their  time  out  of  doors,  and  sit  along  the  streets,  on 
the  corners,  or  in  places  of  resort  in  and  about  the  town.  The 
clothing  of  the  peoide  is  exceedingly  simple  — though  Naza- 
reth may  boast  of  a peculiar  taste  in  dress.  The  women  usu- 
ally have  a single  gown  of  bluish  or  bright-colored  material 
on  them,  tied  around  with  a string  about  the  waist,  while  a 


DRESS  OF  WOMEN. 


377 


handkerchief  tied  u})  peculiarly  forms  the  dressing  for  the 
head.  About  their  necks  and  wrists  are  heavy  strings  of  beads 
and  bracelets,  presenting  a peculiar  ornamentation  to  a person 
so  thinly  clad,  wliile  the  feet  are  often  entirely  bare.  This 
peculiar  gayety  of  dress  may  be  a tribute  to  a greater  beauty 
of  face  and  form  than  the  women  ])ossesEi  in  other  parts  of 
Palestine.  Still,  I must  assure  the  teader  that  the  beauty  of 
the  women  of  Nazareth  is  rather  in  contrast  with  the  women 


■ ORIENTAL  DRESS. 

of  the  land  than  from  an  absolute  loveliness.  Everything  is 
reversed  in  this  land.  While  in  other  countries  the  men  are 
ugly  and  women  pretty,  here  the  men  are  handsome  and  the 
women  are  ugly.  And  who  that  looks  up^m  their  sad  state 
wonders  that  this  is  so  ! 

This  unique  city  of  Nazareth  lies  about  one  thousand  two 
hundred  feet  above  the  level  of  the  Mediterranean,  while  the 
hill  back  of  it  towers  neaily  six  hundred  feet  higher.  Just  as 


378 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


the  sun  was  setting  I climbed  tliis  eminence  to  secure  the 
view  which  its  height  affords.  This  is  one  of  the  fairest  views 
to  he  obtained  in  all  Palestine.  Southward  is  the  great  plain 
of  Esdraelon  stretching  across  to  the  hills  of  Samaria.  Thus 
looking  southward  Little  Ilermon  stands  in  full  view,  and  at 
its  base  the  city  of  Nain.  To  the  left,  a little  way  from  Little 
Ilermon,  is  Mt.  Tabor  rising  like  a great  dome.  Beyond  Lit- 
tle Hermon  is  Gilboa,  set  in  the  south-eastern  portion  of  the 
great  plain  of  Jezreel,  with  the  summer  capital  of  Samaria 
once  crowning  its  Avestern  slope.  Nearer  in  the  plain,  just 
west  of  Little  Hermon,  is  Shuneni,  tvhere  the  Shunammite 
woman,  with  her  husband  built  a little  chamber  for  Elisha, 
the  proidiet  of  God,  in  Avhich  he  might  rest.  To  the  right, 
beyond  the  plain,  lies  the  long  range  of  lofty  Carmel,  tvhere 
Elijah  met  alone  the  four  hundred  and  fifty  propliets  of  Baal 
in  awful  conflict.  Looking  northward  the  eye  rests  on  the 
hills  of  Galilee,  and  farther  east  the  city  of  Kadesh  — the  city 
of  refuge ; farther  north  are  the  lofty  Galilean  mountains, 
standing  like  a guard,  tvhile  still  farther  north,  presiding  in 
majesty  over  all,  is  the  snow-crowned  dome  of  Hermon. 

To  this  eminence  no  doubt  Jesus  often  repaired.  Nowhere 
else  in  all  Palestine  could  his  eyes  behold  the  theater  of  so 
many  tragedies  of  the  history  of  the  people  to  Avhom  he  tvas 
to  offer  eternal  life.  Over  the  plains  and  mountains  surveyed 
from  here,  Jo.«hua  and  the  hosts  of  Israel  had  fought.  From 
Tabor,  Barak  had  burst  forth  upon  the  army  of  horses  and 
chariots.  There,  too,  Saul  and  Jonathan  had  fallen  in  Gilboa. 
And  Gideon  and  Jehu  and  others  won  their  battles  in  these 
plains  southward.  Hoav  must  Christ  not  have  put  in  contrast 
with  all  this  the  manner  of  his  own  public  life  soon  to  begin, 
and  to  be  continued  amid  poverty,  rei)roach,  and  rejection  by 
his  own  people — one  flame  of  loving  lalx)r  for  men  to  be  put 
out  at  last  in  the  darkness  of  a crucified  death.  How  differ- 
ent the  sheen  of  glory  he  Avas  to  spread  over  this  land.  His 
conflict  was  to  be  a lone  grappling  Avith  the  powers  of  darkness. 
Not  in  the  plain  of  Esdraelon,  or  on  the  mountains  of  Tabor 
or  Gilboa,  nor  yet  here  in  Nazareth  or  more  distant  Samaria 


SYNAGOGUE. 


379 


or  Carmel,  but  over  the  hills  to  the  Sea  of  Galilee  he  Avas  to  he 
driven  and  there  find  the  field  of  his  wonderful  ministry. 

Nazareth  of  to-day  is  not  without  its  sacred  places  to  which 
the  visitor  is  shown.  A pleasant-faced  monk  showed  us  be- 
hind the  Church  of  the  Annunciation  the  little  rock-cut  grotto 
in  which  the  virgin  resided,  and  in  Avhich  it  is  asserted  the 
angel  announced  that  she  was  to  become  the  mother  of  the 
long-promised  Messiah.  (Luke  i.  28.)  Ihis  spot  has  been 
shown  as  such  for  the  last  twelve  hundred  years  at  least, 
though  the  present  church  Avas  erected  in  A.  D.  Ii30.  I’a.ssing 
through  the  church  and  doAvn  a flight  of  steps  Ave  Avere  taken 
by  the  monk  through  the  A'cstihule  and  through  the  outer 
grotto  by  a dark  jiassage  twenty  feet  long  in  the  solid  rock,  to 
the  chamber  of  angular  shape  cut  in  the  rock  just  high  enough 
to  be  touched  by  the  hand  as  I stood  under  the  highest  place. 
This  is  said  to  have  been  the  dAvelling-place  of  Mary.  IIoav 
this  really  is  I can  not  tell.  But  someAvhere  here  Mary  lived 
and  reared  Avith  tender  love  the  child  Jesus,  avIio  “increased 
in  Avisdom  and  stature,  and  in  favor  Avith  God  and  man.’ 
(Luke  ii.  40,  52.) 

One  of  the  most  interesting  places  of  Nazareth  is  the  syna- 
gogue in  Avhich  Christ  is  said  to  have  taught  upon  his 
visit  here  after  entering  upon  his  ministry.  The  location  of 
this  site  is  traced  back  in  history  as  far  as  the  year  A.  D. 
570.  From  the  scene  of  the  temptation  “Jesus  returned  in 
the  poAver  of  the  Spirit  into  Galilee.”  “ And  he  came  to  Naz- 
areth, where  he  had  been  brought  up  : and,  a*s  his  custom  Avas, 
he  Avent  into  the  synagogue  on  tlie  Sabbath-day,  and  stood  up 
for  to  read.”  (Luke  iv.  16.)  No  doubt  he  had  been  long  accus- 
tomed to  come  Avith  !Mary  and  Josejih  to  this  j)lace  of  Avor- 
ship.  Here  he  had  doubtless  been  a reader  for  the  people. 
But  a neAV  era  had  dawned.  His  great  mission  had  begun. 
He  read  from  the  sixty-first  chapter  of  Isaiah,  “The  Spirit  of 
the  Lord  is  upon  me,  because  he  hath  anointed  me  to  preach 
the  gospel  to  the  poor;  he  hath  sent  me  to  heal  the  broken- 
hearted, to  preach  deliverance  to  the  captives,  and  recoA’ering 
of  sight  to  the  blind,  to  set  at  liberty  them  that  are  bruised. 


380 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


to  preach  tlie  acceptable  year  of  the  Lord.  And  he  closed  the 
book,  and  he  gave  it  again  to  the  minister,  and  sat  down.  And 
the  eyes  of  all  them  that  were  in  the  synagogue  were  fastened 
on  him.  And  he  began  to  say  unto  them.  This  day  is  this 
scripture  fulfilled  in  your  ears.  And  all  bare  him  witness, 
and  wondered  at  the  gracious  words  which  proceeded  out  of 
his  mouth.  And  they  said.  Is  not  this  Joseph’s  son?”  (Luke 
iv.  18-22.) 

The  crucial  moment  had  come,  and  Jesus  was  ready.  Naza- 
reth would  disown  the  Lord  and  dishonor  its  own' history. 
“Is  not  this  Joseph’s  son?”  But  Jesus  was  j>repared  for  the 
rejection.  “ No  i)rophet  is  accepted  in  his  own  country,”  was 
his  reply.  If  he  be  rejected  at  Nazareth,  others  will  hear  the 
gospel  he  brings.  lie  tells  the  people  of  his  own  city  how  God 
chooses  those  who  hear  him.  The  widow  of  Sarepta  was 
chosen  to  shelter  Elijah  rather  than  any  widow  of  Israel. 
Naaman,  the  Syrian,  was  cured  of  his  leprosy,  while  many 
lepers  in  Israel  were  unsaved.  It  was  enough.  The  jicople 
were  filled  with  Avratb.  They  “rose  up,  and  thrust  him  out  of 
the  cit}",  and  led  him  to  the  broAV  of  the  hill  Avhereon  their  city 
Avas  built,  that  they  niiglit  east  him  doAvn  headlong.  But  he, 
passing  through  the  midst  of  them,  Avent  his  Avay.”  Tradition 
has  long  since  located  the  “ broAv  of  the  hill”  one  mile  and 
a half  south  of  Nazareth.  It  is  a tremendous  j)recipice ; and 
Avhile  there  are  other  precipitous  heights  close  to  the  city 
Avhich  modern  traA'elers  have  preferred  to  this  one,  on  account 
of  their  nearness  to  the  city,  in  looking  upon  the  entire  sur- 
roundings and  the  full  record  of  the  Gospels,  I felt  inclined 
to  accept  the  more  recently  rejected  traditional  site.  The  evi- 
dent intent  of  the  people  Avas  to  murder  Christ;  and  there  is 
no  place  in  all  the  hills  about  Nazareth  Avhich  such  purposes 
Avould  choose,  like  the  one  Avhich  tradition  points  out,  a mile 
and  a half  south  of  toAvn. 

Nazareth  sheltered  the  infant  Jesus,  Avith  his  mother  and 
Joseph,  when  he  came  from  Egypt,  passing  from  under  the 
dominion  of  Archelaus  in  Judea  to  that  of  Herod  Antipas  in 
Galilee,  but  it  rejected  the  Messiah  Jesus  Avhen  he  came 


AT  THE  WELL. 


381 


anointed  by  the  Spirit  of  God  to  j)reach  deliverance  to  the 
captives.  If  Antipas  cared  not  to  hunt  the  life  of  him  -who 
had  been  declared  horn  “King  of  the  Jews”  in  Bethlehem  of 
Judea,  the  people  of  Nazareth  would  not  have  Jesus  to  open 
their  eyes  to  the  light  of  that  kingdom  of  grace  which  is 
eternal  life.  And  thus  it  is  until  now.  Many  a Nazarite 
heart  to  which  Jesus  tenderly  comes,  coldly  and  cruelly  re- 
jects him  and  thrufets  him  away. 

Our  camp  was  pitched  near  to  the  “ Virgin’s  Fountain,”  a 
little  north-east  of  the  town,  over  which  a church  is  built. 
Some  distance  below  the  spring  is  a fountain  to  which  the 
water  is  conducted  by  a channel,  where  from  metal  spouts 
women  and  maids,  and  even  children,  fill  their  great  earthen 
jars  with  water  to  bear  away  to  their  homes  in  the  town.  In 
the  evening  the  number  coming  out  for  water  is  much  the 
greatest.  As  I stood  watching  the  gayly-dressed  maidens 
hearing  away  the  water  on  their  heads  or  shoulders  in  great 
earthen  jars,  one  of  our  company  apj^roached  a damsel  and 
asked  that  she  give  him  to  drink.  She  most  i)olitely  and 
kindly  lowered  her  jar  to  her  knee  and  invited  him  to  drink 
from  the  mouth  of  the  ve.^^.sel,  which  offer  he  as  kindly  ac- 
cepted, as  she  held  the  vessel  up  so  that  he  could  drink.  The 
scene  reminded  me  of  the  servant  of  Ahraham,  when  he  met 
Rebecca,  afterward  the  wife  of  Isaac,  at  the  well  in  Mesopota- 
mia. “ Behold,  I stand  here  by  the  well  of  water ; and  the 
daughters  of  the  men  of  the  city  come  out  to  draw  water : and 
let  it  come  to  pass,  that  the  damsel  to  whom  I shall  say,  Let 
down  thy  pitcher,  I pray  thee,  that  I may  drink ; and  she  • 
shall  say.  Drink,  and  I will  give  thy  camels  drink  also : 
let  the  same  be  she  that  thou  hast  appointed  for  thy  servant 
Isaac.”  (Genesis  xxiv.  13,  14.)  In  the  same  manner  did 
Jesus  say,  “ Give  me  to  drink,”  to  the  woman  at  the  well  of 
Samaria.  (John  iv.  7.) 

Toward  evening  the  crow'd  of  women,  old  and  young, 
pressed  and  thronged  this  sacred  well.  It  is  indeed  the  only 
well  or  spring  in  Nazareth,  and  is  probably  the  only  one  the 
town  has  ever  had.  This  being  true,  it  is  not  hard  to  suppose 


382 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


that  the  virgin  mother  of  Christ  and  the  child  Jesus  were 
among  the  throngs  which  at  even-time  more  than  eighteen 
hundred  years  ago  pressed  to  this  same  fountain  for  water  to 
supply  their  humble  home.  But  it  was  hard  for  me  to  realize 
that  He  once  trod  these  streets  and  stones  amid  a throng,  bare- 
footed and  in  childish  life  and  simplicity,  such  as  came  and 
went  as  I stood  beside  the  Virgin’s  Fountain.  When  Jesus 
oft’ered  the  water  of  life  to  the  people  of  X'azareth  they  turned 
the  cup  of  salvation  from  their  lips. 

One  day  I saw  a wonian  with  a kind  of  pan  filled  with 
dough,  which  she  was  carrying  along  the  streets  on  her  head. 
Upon  making  inquiry,  I learned  that  sht'  was  carrying  it  to 
the  village  hake-oven  to 
have  it  baked.  I subse- 
quently witnessed  the 
same  scene  in  many 
places.  Tlie  American 
cooking-stove  is  unknown 
in  Palestine.  Now  as  in 
olden  times  the  facilities 
for  cooking  meat  and 
baking  bread  are  poor  in- 
deed. In  the  Old  Testa- 
ment times  cakes  were 
baked  on  a stone  or  earth 
heated  with  a few  coals. 

In  Egypt,  and  even  in 
Palestine,  bread  is  now 
frequently  baked  in  that  village  bake-oven. 

manner.  Indeed,  in  Egy})!  many  of  the  poorest  are  content 
to  lay  their  cake  on  a flat  stone  heated  by  the  sun,  and  thus 
have  the  cake  baked.  I tried  these  sun-dried  cakes  in  Pales- 
tine, but  found  them  poor  food.  The  American  traveler, 
fortunately,  can,  in  almost  every  town,  purchase  bread  baked 
by  .Jews  or  Eui’opeans  which  .somewhat  resembles  American 
bread.  But  it  is  extremely  sour;  and  inany  were  the  longings 
of  our  company  for  some  ‘“'home-made  bread.”  In  the  time 


BAKE^OVEN. 


383 


of  Christ  the  baking  was  sometimes  done  with  a jar  or  pitcher 
by  heating  it  with  grass  and  sticks  jdaced  on  the  inside,  the 
flat  cakes  being  stuck  upon  the  outside.  It  was  to  this  cus- 
tom of  heating  ovens  tluit  the  fsavior  referred  when  he  spoke 
of  the  “ grass  of  the  field,  which  to  day  is,  and  to-morrow  is 
cast  into  the  oven.”  (Matthew  vi.  30.)  Now  the  village 
hake-oven,  well  shown  in  our  illu.stration,  is  the  resort  of  the 
villagers.  It  is  sometimes  heated  with  grass,  sticks,  vines, 
and  brush,  but  more  frecpiently  witli  dried  dung.  In  all  the 
towns  of  Palestine  and  Syria — ev(>n  in  Nazaretli — tlu'  walls  of 
the  hou.ses  are  literally  pla.stered  over  with  the  dung  of  all 
kinds  of  animals,  made  out  into  litthi  cakes  Ironi  three  to  si.v 
inches  in  diameter.  They  are  put  up  in  this  manner  to  dry, 
and  are  used  to  heat  the  ovens  to  hake  the  bread.  I shoidd 
say  that  the  larg<'st  part  of  the  j)cople  in  this  land  use  this 
kind  of  fuel,  while  a few  of  the  more  wealthy  have  wood  and 
charcoal.  The  fuel  referred  to  above  is  not,  according  to 
American  tastes,  well  adapted  to  such  use ; and  its  prepara- 
tion^ to  .say  it  softly,  causes  the  towns  to  present  a horrid  and 
sickening  appearance.  I shall  never  forget  tin'  t(>elings  of  dis- 
gust experienced  when  I first  saw  the  houses  th(>re  literally 
covered  over  with  cakes  of  dung  stuck  up  against  them  to  dry. 

I loved  Nazarc'th  because  of  its  shelter  afforded  to  the 
Savior  of  the  world  during  nearly  all  his  earthly  sojourn.  I 
would  fain  remain  longer  to  behold  some  new  views  of  the 
life  of  this  Galilean  town,  which  is  now  so  much  like  it  mu.st 
have  been  when  Jesus  abode  here.  But  .Jesus  has  a heavenly 
home.  It  is  built  on  the  mountain  of  God.  To  its  divine 
retreat  he  invites  the  pilgrim  not  for  the  night  alone.  In  his 
heavenly  home  there  is  no  night,  and  the  fountains  are  full 
and  free.  There  the  mansions  are.  There  the  weary  are  at 
rest. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


Storm  at  Nazareth  — Singing  of  Birds  — Leaving  Nazareth  — Hills  of  Gal- 
ilee— Path  of  the  Holy  Faniilj'  — Plain  of  Plsdraelon  — Little  Her- 
mon  — Carmel — Battle  of  the  Gods  — Elijah  — Ahab  — Jezebel  — The 
Famine  — The  Prayer  for  Rain  — God  or  Baal — Hermits  of  Carmel  — 
Naiii  — Tabor — Shunem  — Elisha’s  Chamber  — Raising  the  Widow’s 
Son. 

SHALL  not  soon  forgot  the  fearful  ■wind-storm  which 
in  the  niglit  threatened  to  tear  our  tents  from  their 
places  as  we  lay  at  Nazareth.  Had  it  not  heen  for  the 
diligence  used  in  fastening  tlie  stakes  and  tightening 
^ the  cords,  we  should  have  suffered  severely  from  the  storm. 

L When  the  morning  came  the  storm  was  passed;  the  deli- 
cate song  of  birds  made  the  air  resonant  Avith  the  sweetest 
music  that  could  have  fallen  on  our  ears  tortured  Avith  the 
midnight  storm.  In  the  branches  and  floAvers  of  the  cacti, 
and  in  the  green  boughs  of  the  olive-trees,  these  SAveet  song- 
sters build  their  nests.  So  even  noAv,  as  in  olden  times,  at 
Nazareth  the  “birds  of  the  air  haA'e  nests,”  though  this  people 
anciently  refused  Jesus  a place  Avhere  to  lay  his  head. 

From  Nazareth,  seclusiA'ely  nestling  betAveen  the  surround- 
ing hills  of  Galilee,  our  course  Avas  chosen  south Avard  toAvard 
Samaria.  Onee  out  of  the  little  A’alley  of  Nazareth  the  Avay 
soutliAvard  and  eastAvard  Avas  down  jirccipitous  steeps  and 
along  the  broAV  of  rugged  hills.  For  almost  a mile  doAvn  to- 
Avard  the  plain  of  Esdraelon,  the  Ava)’  was  so  rough  that  it  W’as 
almost  imiAossible  to  make  it  on  horseback.  I led  my  horse 
doAvn  over  the  steeps  and  rocks,  over  Avhich  he  must  sometimes 
jump  doAvn  two  feet  and  more,  perpendicularly.  From  the 
hills  south  of  the  town  I looked  for  the  last  time  on  the  white 

384 


PLAIN  OF  ESDRAELON. 


385 


(hvellings  of  Nazareth,  the  childhood  home  of  our  Savior,  and 
tlien  turned  to  the  south  to  behold  the  beautiful  i:>lain  stretch- 
ing out  fourteen  miles  soutlnvard  and  far  awa}'  to  the  sea, 
Avhile  the  towering  form  of  Carmel  gracefully  lifted  its  heights 
beyond  the  plain  until  its  bold  brow  apjx'ared  abruptly  bro- 
ken off  by  the  great  waters  of  the  Mediterranean.  What  an 
inspiring  scene!  Then,  too,  I was  traveling  down  the  same 
steeps  which  the  child  Jesus  descended  eighteen  hundred 
years  ago  with  IMary  and  Josejih,  when  on  their  journey  to 
distant  Jerusalem,  to  worship.  God ! Up  these  steep  hills  the 
holy  family,  Avearied  by  their  long  journey  from  Egypt,  slowly 
climbed  to  take  up  their  abode  in  the  despised  Nazareth! 
This  Avas  ahvays  the  direct  road  soutliAvard. 

SloAvly  and  thoughtfully  I descended  to  the  edge  of  the 
plain.  E.sdraelon  is  a vast,  triangular-shaped,  level  tract  of 
land  of  great  beauty  and  fertility.  From  the  hills  of  Galilee 
north  of  Little  Hermon  to  the  sea,  the  north-Avestern  side  of 
the  plain  is  about  sixteen  miles  long.  Acro.ss  the  plain  Avhere 
Little  llermon  and  Gilboa  break  it  uj)  at  the  east  end,  it  is 
fourteen  miles  Avide.  On  the  south  side  of  the  plain  along 
the  base  of  Mount  Carmel,  it  is  about  twenty-five  miles  long. 
The  prophet  once  united  Carmel  and  the  plains  of  Sharon  as 
symbolizing  the  beauty  to  be  expected  in  the  coming  king- 
dom of  the  Messiah.  (Isaiah  xxxv.  2.) 

The  plain  of  Esdraelon,  spreading  out  like  a picture  of 
beauty  Avith  the  hills  of  Galilee  on  the  north  and  Carmel  on 
the  south,  and  Little  Hermon,  Gilboa,  and  Tabor  on  the  east, 
presents  a field  of  illustrious  history.  It  is  the  scene  of  battle- 
conflict,  such  as  one’s  eye  noAvhere  beholds  in  all  Palestine. 
Carmel,  breaking  aAvay  from  the  hills  of  Samaria,  stands  the 
lone  reminder  of  the  conflict  of  the  old  Prophet  Elijah  Avith 
the  wicked  Jezebel  and  Ahab.  The  mountain  is  about  four- 
teen miles  long,  but  does  not  possess  peculiar  boldness  from  its 
height  so  much  as  on  account  of  its  position,  running  really 
across  the  land,  and  because  of  its  abrupt  breaking  down  at 
tbe  sea.  Its  greatest  height  is  only  about  one  thousand  seven 
hundred  and  forty  feet  (Conder),  Avhile  close  to  the  sea  it  is 

25 


386 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


five  hundred  and  fifty-six  feet.  On  its  northern  side  along  the 
plain  of  Esdraelon  it  rises  very  abruptly.  Tradition,  with 
inucli  plausibility,  locates  the  scene  of  Elijah’s  conflict,  or 
fire-test  with  the  proi)hets  of  Baal,  near  the  eastern  terminus 
of  the  mountain.  Tliis  peak,  called  El  Mahralcah  (Place  of 
Burning),  one  thousand,  si.x  hundred  and  eighty- seven  feet 
high,  forms  the  .south-east  extremity  of  tire  main  mountain- 
range.  Below  the  peak  .some  distance  is  a plateau  of  land 
Avith  olive-trees,  above  Avbich  are  shrubs  and  buslies.  The 
greater  part  of  the  mountain  is  <wergrown  with  small  .“shrubs 
and  trees.  At  the  edge  of  this  jdateau  is  a well  Avhich  con- 
tains water  nearly  all  the  year  round.  Some  distance  above 
is  a reservoir  thirty-five  by  twenty  feet,  six  to  eight  feet  deep, 
cut  in  the  rock  near  a little  chapel  of  modern  date.  For  the 
last  century  this  has  been  regarded  as  the  ])lace  of  Elijah's 
contest.  Near  the  base  of  the  mountain,  fourteen  hundred 
feet  below,  is  the  brook  Kishon,  where  Elijah  slew  the  proph- 
ets of  Baal.  (1.  Kings  xviii.  40.)  The  plateau  of  th(>  mount- 
ain Avould  afford  a place  for  the  gathering  of  tin;  peojile,  and 
from  the  well  the  twelve  barrels  of  Avater  with  which  the 
sacrifice  and  altar  Avere  flooded  could  easily  have  been  ob- 
tained. From  the  summit  of  the  mountain  the  sea  is  plainlj' 
A'isihle,  and  to  that  jAoint  the  prophet’s  servant  doubtless 
went,  Avhile  Elijah  remained  a little  heloAV  in  jArayer,  and  saw 
rising  “a  little  cloud  out  of  the  sea,  like  a man’s  hand,'’  until 
the  heavens  became  black,  and  the  dusty  and  parched  Carmel 
Avelcomed  the  clouds  and  delicious  rain,  Avhich  for  three  years 
and  a half  (Luke  iv.  25)  had  refused  to  come  Avitli  its  bene- 
diction over  all  the  land.  (I,  Kings  XAuii.  44.)  That  Avas  an 
aAvful  day  on  Carmel.  Ahah  had  become  the  tool  of  the  hea- 
then Jezebel  Avhom  he  had  married.  Idolatry  had  taken  the 
place  of  the  altars  of  God.  Upon  Carmel  the  altar  of  the 
Lord  had  been  destroyed.  The  children  of  Israel  had  forsaken 
the  covenant  made  Avith  their  God — throAvn  doAvn  his  altars 
and  slain  the  prophets  of  .JehoA^ah  Avith  the  SAVord.  (I.  Kings 
xix.  10.)  Elijah  the  Tishhite,  the  old  prophet  of  the  Most 
High,  had  been  driven  out  of  Samaria  to  find  shelter  under 


BATTLE  OF  THE  GODS. 


387 


the  cliff  of  the  Judean  mountains,  hy  tlie  brook  Cherith, 
where  the  ravens  brouglit  him  bread  and  flesh  in  the  morning 
and  bread  and  flesh  in  the  evening;  and  he  drank  water  out 
of  the  brook  until  after  awhile  it  was  dried  up  because  there 
were  no  rains  in  the  land.  He  liad  then  been  sheltered  for  a 
long  time  in  the  home  of  the  widow  of  Zarephath,  feeding 
upon  her  unwasting  barrel  of  meal  and  cruse  of  oil  Avhich 
failed  not  all  the  years  through.  But  “ the  heavens  were 
shut  up,”  and  a pinching,  scorching  famine  stalked  in  every 
vall(>y  and  liaunted  every  ganlen.  The  Ood  of  heaven  was 
exceedingly  angry.  Appe'aring  to  Elijah,  who  for  throe  years 
had  concealed  himself  from  the  king,  in  the  coast  of  Zidon, 
the  Lord  said,  “Go  show  thy.self  unto  Ahab;  and  I will  send 
rain  upon  the  earth.”  Now  there  was  one  seend  disciple 
of  the  Almighty  in  the  house  of  Ahab,  Obadiah,  who  was 
the  trusted  master  of  his  house,  who  had  fed  with  bread  and 
water  one  hundred  prophets  of  the  I.ord,  in  a cave,  while 
Jezebel  had  decreed  that  all  should  be  slain,  for  he  “ feared 
the  Lord  greatly.”  Obadiah  searching  for  some  food  or  fount- 
ain of  water  or  pasture-land  for  the  beasts  in  one  direction, 
Avhile  Ahab  Avent  in  another,  Avas  met  by  Elijah  and  became 
the  unAvilling  bearer  of  tidings  to  Ahab  that  the  old  jirophet 
Avished  to  meet  him  face  to  face.  Ahab,  the  Avicked  king,  and 
the  old  prophet  of  God,  clad  in  his  mantle,  confronted  each 
other  — the  one  the  advocate  of  the  God  of  Abraham,  and  the 
other  the  folloAver  of  Baal.  “ Art  thou  he  that  troubleth  Ls- 
rael?”  Avas  the  taunting  and  greeting  Elijah  received  from 
the  king.  The  prophet  Avas  ready  for  the  contest.  He  thrust 
Ahab’s  sins  upon  him  Avith  the  aAvful  charge  of  his  departure 
from  God  to  follow  Baalim.  The  challenge  is  made  and  ac- 
cepted. Four  hundred  jArophets  of  the  groves,  and  four  hun- 
dred and  fifty  prophets  of  Baal,  attend  Ahab  and  the  elders 
of  the  people  to  yon  height  of  Carmel!  Elijah  is  alone,  and 
appears  to  Israel  on  the  mountain  and  pronounces  the  solemn 
sentence,  “ Hoav  long  halt  ye  betAveen  two  opinions;  if  the 
Lord  be  God,  folloAv  hiin  ; but  if  Baal,  then  folloAv  him.”  “ The 
God  that  ansAvereth  by  fire  let  him  be  God.”  Baal  must  be 


388 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


tested  first.  The  priests  of  Baal  employ  all  the  morning.  Their 
bullock  and  wood  lie  untouched  by  fire  till  noon.  At  full  noon 
the  burning  sun -god  stands  up  above  Carmel,  and  the  hot 
winds  come  over  from  the  east  and  every  moment  threaten 
to  kindle  the  fire.  Hundreds  of  priests  cry  with  pleading 
prayer,  “0  Baal,  answer  us!”  When  the  sun  threatened  to 
kindle  the  flame,  Elijah,  advancing  to  the  throng,  hurled  into 
the  company  the  bitterest  shafts  of  irony,  “ Cry  aloud  : for  he 
is  a god ; either  he  is  talking,  or  he  is  pursuing,  or  he  is  in  a 
journey,  or  peradventure  he  sleepeth,  and  must  be  awaked.” 
They  jumix'd  up  and  down  on  the  altar,  the  lancets  and 
knives  were  thrust  into  their  bodies  and  drawn  over  their 
foreheads  until  the  blood  flowed  down  over  them,  but  no 
spark  from  the  sun  kindled  a flame  on  the  altar.  All  the  day 
has  passed,  but  there  is  “ neither  voice  nor  an}'  to  answer,  nor 
any  that  regardeth.” 

The  sun  was  sinking  over  the  mountains  of  Samaria  Avhen 
the  people  came  near  and  beheld  the  old  prophet  repairing 
the  altar  which  long  before  had  stood  on  Carmel.  Twelve 
stones  after  the  twelve  tribes  of  Jacob  composed  the  altar 
again  courageously  built  by  the  Tishbite.  The  wood,  the 
sacrifice,  the  trench,  the  twelve  barrels  of  water  drenching  the 
whole  with  a flood,  challenged  the  answer  of  fire.  It  was  an 
awful  hour  for  the  old  pro})het.  Would  the  heavens  be  shut 
up  against  his  jwayer  as  they  had  refused  to  hear  the  prayer 
of  the  parched  earth  for  rain  ? The  time  of  the  evening  sac- 
rifice has  come.  The  work  must  be  thorough  in  every  par- 
ticular or  a failure  entire.  It  is  a decision  and  battle  between 
the  gods.  Hear  the  i:>rophet : “ Lord  God  of  Abraham,  Isaac, 
and  of  Israel,  let  it  be  known  this  day  that  thou  art  God.” 
The  suspense  is  only  a moment.  There  is  a spark, — a flash, — a 
flame.  The  top  of  the  mountain  glows  and  glares  with  the 
intense  heat.  Sacrifice,  altar,  stones,  and  water  in  the  trench 
are  consumed  as  stubble,  while  Elijah  looks  complacently 
upon  the  scene.  Carmel  trembles,  and  the  whole  mountain, 
filled  with  the  throng  of  Israel,  is  a place  of  worship.  The 
assembled  thousands  fall  on  their  faces  and  cry,  “ The  Lord, 


THE  PRAYER  FOR  RAIN. 


389 


he  is  the  God;  the  Lord,  he  is  the  God.’’  The  Lord  of  hosts 
■fl’ins  a great  victor5^  No  battle  of  Gideon  or  Barak  or  of 
Napoleon  of  later  times,  which  stained  the  soil  of  Esdraelon 
with  human  gore,  compares  with  the  victory  won  by  Jehovah 
on  yonder  heights  of  Carmel.  The  triumph  needed  only  to 
be  baptized  with  an  abundance  of  rain.  God  had  mercy 
upon  the  fields  and  flocks  and  upon  his  famisliing,  rebellious 
people.  But  tire  era  of  prosperity  and  the  shoAvers  of  refresh- 
ing rain  must  come  in  answer  to  the  prophet’s  prayer;  for 
God  would  shoAV  the  people  that  he  had  sent  Elijah,  and  tlrat 
he  Avas  the  divine  spokesman  to  Israel.  The  proifliets  of  Baal 
had  been  slain,  and  their  carcasses  lay  in  the  IkhI  of  the  brook 
Kishon,  below,  Availing  the  flood  to  Avash  them  aAvay,  Avhen 
‘•Elijah  Avent  up  to  the  tojA  of  Carmel;  and  he  cast  himself 
down  upon  the  earth,  and  put  his  face  between  his  knees”  in 
wondrous  prayer,  Avhile  his  servant  seven  times  Avent  a dis- 
tance on  the  mountain,  coming  and  going,  declaring  there  Avas 
no  sign  of  rain,  until  at  last  he  said,  “ Behold,  there  ariseth  a 
little  cloud  out  of  the  sea,  like  a man’s  hand.”  “ Prepare  th}’’ 
chariot,  an  l get  thee  doAvn,  that  the  rain  stojr  thee  not,”  Avas 
Elijah’s  order  to  Ahab.  The  heavens  grcAv  black  Avith  clouds 
and  wind.  The  parched  earth  drank  in  the  mellowing  shower. 
Thirst}'  cattle  and  herds  and  flocks  drank  of  the  falling  floods. 
The  hills  leaped  for  joy,  and  the  forests  of  Carmel  clapped 
their  Avings  Avith  gladne.ss.  The  plains  of  Sharon  and  Esdrae- 
lon shouted  for  thankfulness.  Ahab’s  chariot  drove  Avith  the 
storm  in  mighty  haste,  Avhile  the  prophet  of  God  Avith  majes- 
tic mien  gii’ded  up  his  cloak  and  garments  about  his  loins  and 
for  sixteen  miles  ran  as  a servant  before  the  chariot  of  the 
king,  even  to  the  gate  of  Jezreel.  From  that  day  until  noAV 
Carmel  stands  sacred  as  the  scene  of  this  aAvful  conflict  and 
tremendous  victory.  Tavo  hundred  years  later,  in  the  days 
of  Micah,  the  people  of  God  dAvelt  solitary  in  the  Avood  in  the 
midst  of  Carmel.  (Micah  vii.  14.)  It  became  a hiding-place 
for  the  people.  (Amos  ix.  3.)  Eight  hundred  years  before 
Christ,  and  early  in  the  Christian  centuries,  Carmel  Avas 
the  resort  of  the  hermits.  In  the  thirteenth  century  the  cm- 


390 


THE  IIOL  V LAND. 


saders  adorned  it  with  tenij)le.s  and  monasteries,  the  ruins  of 
which  remain.  Nearly  a century  ago  (1799)  the  sick  of  the 
army  of  Napoleon  were  sheltered  in  the  monasteries,  now 
destroyed ; but  upon  his  retreat  they  fell  into  the  hands  of 
the  ^Moslems  and  were  cruelly  murdered.  Lieutenant  Conder 
says,  “ Carmel  is  remarkable  for  the  profusion  of  its  flowers. 
In  November  we  found  on  its  sides  the  cytisus,  crocus,  narcis- 
sus, the  i)ink  cistus,  and  large  camomile  daisies,  the  colocasia, 
and  the  hawthorn  in  bud.  The  .Judas-tree  I have  also  twice 
found  in  remote  parts,  and  in  the  spring,  wild  tuliiis,  the 
dark-red  anemone  like  a popi^y,  the  beautiful  pink  phlox, 
the  cyclamen,  little  purple  stocks,  large  marigolds,  wild  gera- 
nium, and  saxifrage,  with  rock  roses  of  three  kinds  — pink 
yellow,  and  white.”  {Tent-Work  in  Palestine,  page  95.) 

From  the  northern  edge  of  the  plain  of  Esdraelon,  entered 
from  Nazareth,  we  rode  about  five  miles  south-east  across  the 
plain  to  Nain,  situated  on  the  northern  slope  of  Jebel  Dehu,  or 
Little  Ilermon,  two  miles  from  its  western  terminus.  Two 
miles  farther  east,  across  a gap  or  break  in  the  mountains,  is 
Endor,  a miserable  little  town  of  about  one  hundred  and  fifty 
people,  so  filthy  that  no  one  would  care  to  visit  it  were  it  not 
for  the  fact  that  in  one  of  its  caves  once  lived  the  witch  to 
whom  Saul  in  the  night  of  his  agony,  forsaken  of  God,  re- 
sorted to  ask  her  to  summon  back  to  him  the  dead  Prophet 
Samuel,  whose  admonitions  and  warning  he  had  so  wickedly 
disobeyed.  (I.  Samuel  xxviii.  4-25.)  It  still  has  its  original 
name,  pronounced  by  the  Arabs  Emlur. 

Nain  is  a small,  dirty  town,  built  of  stone,  with  here  and 
there  ruins  of  former  greatness.  This  is  the  city  at  whose 
gate  Jesus  raised  the  widow’s  son  from  the  dead,  as  the  funeral 
cortege  was  on  the  way  to  the  burial.  Luke  tells  us  that  “when 
He  came  nigh  to  the  gate  of  the  city,  behold,  there  was  a 
dead  man  carried  out,  the  only  son  of  his  mother,  and  she  was 
a widow  : and  much  people  of  the  cit}'  was  with  her.”  (Luke 
vii.  12.)  .Tesus  had  come  from  Capernaum,  a distance  of 
twenty  miles  away,  that  day ; and  we  may  Avell  imagine  that 
it  was  nigh  unto  evening.  The  sun  hung  over  Carmel  when 


RAISING  THE  WIDOW’S  SON. 


391 


the  Man  with  a seamless  coat,  after  a journey  of  twenty  miles 
on  foot,  commanded  the  bier  to  halt  as  it  was  near  to  the 
burial-ground.  His  tender  words  dried  the  tears  of  the  widow, 
and  His  j)Ower  gave  back  from  the  dead  her  only  son  into  her 
fond  arms.  The  course  of  the  old  wall  can  be  readily  traced, 
especially  on  the  west  of  the  town ; and  no  doubt  the  present 
path,  through  a declivity  in  the  elevation,  leading  into  a little 
valley  outside  of  the  town,  lies  on  the  same  spot  of  the  way 
out  which  they  carried  the  dead  man.  Just  a little  way  across 
the  valley,  a few  hundred  paces,  are  a number  of  tombs  cut 
in  the  rock,  which  remain  to  this  day.  Xo  doubt  here  was 
the  burial-place  to  Avhich  the  young  man  was  being  borne 
when  the  Savior  met  the  sorrowful  company  and  reclaimed 
from  the  arms  of  Death  the  only  dependence  of  a widowed 
mother.  There  are  few  i)laces  in  all  the  Holy  Land  where  I 
found  my  heart  more  tenderly  touched  than  when  standing,  as 
I supposed,  just  at  the  position  of  the  gate  of  Xain  where  this 
miracle  was  wrought,  and  reading  Luke’s  record,  given  so  con- 
cisely, and  yet  so  full.  The  record  is  a marvelously  concise 
and  interesting  narrative.  As  I stood  reading  the  wondrous 
story  upon  tbe  spot  where  moi’e  than  eighteen  and  a half 
centuries  ago  Jesus  for  the  eighth  time,  so  far  as  we  have  the 
record,  wrought  a miracle, — but  this  the  eighth  time  entered 
the  realm  of  death  and  for  the  first  time  showed  his  power 
over  death  and  hell, — I felt  a strangely  new  appreciation  of 
Jesus.  (Luke  vii.  11-15.)  Behind  me  were  the  ruins  of  the 
ancient  Xain,  about  me  the  dim  traces  of  the  old  wall,  and 
yonder  in  full  view,  in  front,  the  rocky  tombs,  now  open,  to 
one  of  which  probably  the  young  man  was  being  borne  when 
Jesus  again  “delivered  him  to  his  mother.”  Jesus  had  before 
shown  his  power  over  diseases,  but  this  entering  the  domain 
of  death  presages  the  power  of  his  own  resurrection.  Xine 
hundred  years  before,  only  a few  miles  away,  at  Shunem,  the 
son  of  the  Shunammite  woman  had  been  restored  from  the 
dead  by  Elisha.  Since  then  none  had  risen  from  that  dream- 
less sleep  save  the  ghostly  momentary  resuscitation  of  the  man 
who  touched  the  bones  of  Elisha  in  his  own  quiet  grave.  (II. 


392 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


Kings  xiii.  21.)  Xot  even  at  Bethany  was  I more  certain  that 
I stood  upon  the  sj)ot  of  the  triumph  of  the  voice  of  Jesus 
over  the  power  of  death  than  at  Nain. 

North  and  a little  east  from  Nain,  and  from  Little  Hermon 
about  six  miles,  is  Mount  Tabor,  which  looks  like  a great 
smooth  heap.  It  is  six  miles  south-east  of  Nazareth,  and 
about  ten  miles  from  Tiberias,  on  the  Sea  of  Galilee.  The 
southern  portions  of  Tabor  are  barren,  but  the  northern  slopes 
of  the  mountain  are  covered  with  shrubs,  while  near  its  base 
is  a fine  grove  of  oak  trees,  the  largest  in  Palestine. 

From  Nain,  a ride  across  the  mountain  to  the  south-west 
end  of  Little  Hermon  brought  us  to  Shunem,  situated  on  the 
south-eastern  slope  of  the  mountain.  It  has  a delightful  loca- 
tion, with  a splendid  sj^ring,  — indeed  several  spring.s,  — so 
that  here  we  found  orchards  of  orange  and  lemon  trees  which 
Avere  beautiful  to  look  upon.  We  Avere  quartered  for  awhile 
in  a lemon-orchard,  thick  Avith  trees  of  splendid  size.  These, 
too,  Avere  abundantly  loaded  AAUth  fruit.  From  a single  tree 
not  less  than  forty  or  fifty  bushels  of  lemons  might  have  been 
gathered.  The  men  and  the  Avomen  and  the  children  all 
came  out  of  their  houses  or  huts  to  look  at  us.  Not  less 
than  fifty  sat  around  on  the  ground  AA’atching  us  all  the  time. 
Some  of  them  Avere  quite  black  Avhile  others  Avere  Avhite.  A 
AA’oman  aa’Iio  AA-as  quite  black  seemed  to  have  the  manage- 
ment of  affairs  around  the  garden  or  orchard,  and  appeared 
quite  afraid  that  some  of  our  company  AA’ould  appropriate  her 
fruit.  They  all  seemed  to  AA’ant  some  backshish  because  we 
had  been  in  the  garden,  though  nothing  had  been  touched 
except  Avhat  had  been  bought  and  Avell  paid  for.  There  are 
but  fcAV  ruins  here,  and  the  houses  are  only  mud  huts  with 
holes  about  three  feet  high  for  doors,  in  and  out  of  AA’hich  creep 
dirty  AVomen  and  children.  Here  the  armies  of  the  Philis- 
tines encamped  on  the  slopes  of  Little  Hermon,  against  Saul, 
AA’hose  armies  lay  in  Gilboa. 

There  is  no  chamber  here  noAA'  that  a prophet  AA'Ould  wish 
to  lodge  in;  and  yet  Shunem  has  knoAvn  a better  day.  This 
place  lay  directly  on  the  Avay  of  Elisha  in  his  journey  to 


RAISING  THE  WIDO  IF’S  SON. 


393 


Carmel  from  the  east.  Here  a woman  of  wealth  recognized 
Elisha  as  a man  of  God,  and  Avith  the  consent  and  aid  of  her 
husband  built  a little  chamber  on  the  AA’all  of  their  house, 
and  set  for  him  there  a bed  and  a table  and  a stool  and  a 
candlestick  (II.  Kings  iv.  10)  ; and  here  Elisha  and  his  servant 
Gehazi  often  abode.  South  of  the  town  are  the  fields  where 
the  youthful  son  of  the  Shunammite  woman  went  among  the 
reapers  and  fell  smitten  by  the  power  of  the  sun,  until  he  Avas 
carried  to  his  mother  and  placed  on  her  knee,  where  he  lay  till 
noon  and  died.  The  eye  readily  traces  the  course,  fourteen 
miles  aAvay,  across  the  plain  Avhich  the  woman  pursued  to 
find  Elisha  in  Carmel,  and  to  ansAver  him,  “ It  is  well,”  Avhile 
her  darling  boy  lay  dead  in  the  prophet’s  chamber  in  her 
home  here  at  Shunem.  Across  this  plain  Gehazi  preceded 
the  projAhet,  but  the  staff  of  the  man  of  God  lay  poAverless 
upon  the  dead  face  of  the  youth.  Hither  Elisha  came,  led 
by  the  broken-hearted,  benevolent  Avoman,  to  raise  from  the 
dead  her  only  son.  (II.  Kings  iv.  32-36.)  Xo  one  can  A’isit 
these  sites  of  ancient  cities  and  look  on  these  plains  and 
mountains  and  notice  their  location,  Avithout  being  surprised 
at  the  marvelous  accuracy  with  Avhich  they  fit  into  every  de- 
tail of  the  Bible  record.  As  I sat  under  the  shade  of  a great 
lemon -tree  and  read  from  the  Bible  the  history  of  events 
whose  tender  loA’e  and  tragedy  have  covered  this  plain  about 
Shunem,  and  these  mountains  of  Gilboa,  and  yonder  Cai’inel, 
with  fadeless  memories,  I Avas  almost  beAvildered  Avith  the  ac- 
curacy of  the  Bible  statement.  The  Xcav  Testament  incidents 
lie  back  in  history  nearly  two  thousand  years,  Avhile  Elisha, 
whose  path  I described  through  the  plain,  Avas  here  almost  a 
thousand  years  before  Christ  Avas  born ; and  yet  these  mount- 
ains and  ruins  of  cities  and  plains  fit  to  Bible  record  as  your 
one  hand  fits  to  the  other. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


Fountain  of  Gideon  — Jezreel — Gilboa — Battle  of  Deborah — Gideon — Scene 
at  Endor — Saul  Slain  in  Gilboa  — Jezebel  — Vineyard  of  Naboth — 
Josiah  Slain  by  Nechro  — Napoleon’s  Battle  — Jeliu  — Dogs  Eat  Jeze- 
bel— Women  Grinding  at  the  Mill  — Rock -Cut  Cisterns  — Across 
Esdraelon. 


Wrom 


Shunem  on  the  slopes  of  Little  Hermon  we 
rode  south  and  east  to  the  base  of  Gilboa,  to  the 
fountain  of  Gideon,  or  Ain  Jalud.  This  is  doubtless 
the  well  (fountain)  of  Harod,  by  which  the  armies  of 
Gideon  were  camjied  more  than  thirty-one  centuries  ago. 
i (.Judges  vii.  1.)  It  is  a strong  fountain  of  clear  water, 
springing  out  of  a cavern  in  the  rocks.  It  at  once  spreads  out 
to  a width  of  three  or  four  rods,  and  is  al)out  two  .feet  deep.  To 
this  fountain  Gideon,  at  the  command  of  the  Lord,  led  down 
from  the  heights  above  the  people  unto  the  water  to  drink. 
Those  who  dipped  their  hands  into  the  water  and  lapped  it 
out  of  the  hollow  of  their  hands  with  their  tongues  were  chosen 
to  the  battle.  Tliis  had  respect  to  the  most  hasty  way  of 
drinking.  I rode  directly  into  the  stream,  and  stooi)ing  at  the 
side  of  my  pony  drank  in  that  manner  before  one  of  our  com- 
pany could  get  to  the  fountain  with  his  cup.  (.Judges  vii.  6.) 

From  this  fountain  a ride  of  about  two  miles  brought  us  to 
Zerin,  the  ancient  Jezreel,  the  summer  capital  of  Samaria, 
where  Aliab  and  Jezebel  had  a splendid  palace.  The  view 
from  Gilboa  is  one  of  the  most  far-reaching  anywhere  to  be 
obtained.  There  are  not  here  to  the  visitor  those  memories 
which  come  to  him  at  Xazareth  over  the  hills  of  Galilee,  nor 
the  sacred  associations  which  he  experiences  even  at  Shunem. 

Looking  in  any  direction  upon  the  great  plain  east  or  west, 

394 


GILBOA. 


395 


the  eyes  rest  upon  the  scenes  of  the  most  illustrious  battles 
ever  fought  on  the  sacred  soil  of  the  Holy  Land ! This  great 
expanse  of  fertile  lands  has  again  and  again  been  baptized 
•with  the  blood  of  conflicting  armies.  The  whole  scene  from 
Gilboa  paints  to  the  mind  a picture  of  age  succeeding  age, 
thrusting  out  its  flame  of  war  and  echoing  the  departed 
armies,  commingled  with  the  shouts  of  victorious  hosts  and 
the  flash  of  terrifying  torches  of  fire.  It  is  a wondrous  arena 
to  look  upon ! Almost  thirty-two  centuries  ago,  Jabin,  king 
of  Canaan,  came  with  his  army  from  Hazor,  and  pitched  his 
troops  in  array  in  Esdraelon,  at  Taanach,  by  the  waters  of  Me- 
giddo  (Judges  v.  19),  the  branches  of  Kishon.  His  nine  hun- 
dred chariots  of  iron  rattled  in  the  plain  to  the  terror  of  all 
the  people.  Then  came  Barak,  encouraged  by  Deborah,  com- 
manding the  hosts  of  the  Lord  to  meet  the  oppressor  of  Israel 
on  the  banks  of  the  Kishon,  seven  miles  away  to  the  south 
and  west  from  Gilboa.  He  had  marshaled  his  armies  in  Ta- 
bor, from  which  he  had  observed  all  the  movements  of  the 
army  of  Sisera.  (Judges  iv.  12.)  But  now  he  came  with  ten 
thousand  men  to  witness  the  di.scomforture  which  the  Lord 
should  bring  upon  the  enemies  of  Israel,  for  “ the  stars  in 
their  courses  fought  against  Sisera,”  and  the  storms  beat  down 
the  host,  and  the  flood  of  Kishon,  as  they  rushed  terrified  into 
its  swelled  channel,  swept  them  away  as  they  tried  to  make 
their  escape.  Yonder  in  the  swamps  Sisera  abandoned  his 
chariot,  on  foot,  only  to  be  slain  by  Jael,  the  wife  of  Heber. 
Nearly  fifty  years  later  Gideon  conquered  tlie  Midianites,  just 
at  the  foot  of  Gilboa,  eastward  from  Jezreel.  The  Midianites 
had  come  from  beyond  Jordan  and  taken  possession  of  all  this 
vast  plain,  until  the  children  of  Israel  were  driven  into 
the  dens  and  caves  of  the  mountains.  With  the  INIidianites 
came  also  the  Amalekites  and  the  “ children  of  the  east.”  Gid- 
eon, feeling  assured  that  God  would  be  with  him,  came  with 
thirty-two  thousand  men  and  camped  above  the  fountain, 
while  the  Midianites  lay  just  north  of  them  in  the  Valley. 
By  the  removal  and  dismissal  of  the  fearful,  the  army  was  re- 
duced to  ten  thousand.  These  ten  thousand  soldiers  under 


396 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


Gideon  marched  down  by  night  to  the  brow  of  Gilboa  and  by 
the  fountain,  passed  the  unknown  test  which  sent  away  to 
their  tents  all  save  three  hundred  chosen  men,  who  returned 
to  the  top  of  the  mountain  overlooking  the  camp  of  the  Mid- 
ianites.  Another  day  had  j)assed,  and  in  the  darkness  of 
the  night  Gideon,  with  his  servant  Phurah,  crept  softly  down 
the  mountain  slope  to  the  edge  of  the  enemy’s  camp  and 
overheard  two  men  talking  — the  one  telling  the  dream  of  a 
loaf  of  barley-bread  tumbling  into  the  host  of  Midian,  and 
the  other  declaring,  “ This  is  nothing  else  save  the  sword  of 
Gideon.”  A new  inspiration  siezed  the  son  of  Joash.  He 
hasted  back  to  his  army  and  told  them,  “ The  Lord  hath 
delivered  into  your  hands  the  hosts  of  Midian !”  It  is  a 
strange  device.  Every  man  of  the  three  hundred  lighted  his 
torch  and  carried  it  with  a pitcher  and  a trumpet  in  his 
hand.  The  early  watches  had  been  relieved  and  perchance 
were  asleep  as  the  middle  watch  took  their  place,  and  the 
three  companies  of  Gideon’s  men  silently  entered  Midian’s 
camp,  and  every  man  in  his  iilace  blew  the  trumjjet,  and 
broke  his  pitcher,  and  held  up  the  blazing  torch  before  the 
alarmed  and  terrified  Midianites  and  Amalekites,  and  cried 
aloud,  “ The  sword  of  the  Lord  and  of  Gideon.”  (.Judges  vii. 
20.)  Affrighted,  panic-stricken,  and  bewildered,  the  hosts  of 
Midian  fled  down  the  plain  toward  the  Jordan.  Everywhere 
the  tidings  of  victory  sped  through  Israel  and  from  Naphtali, 
and  other  portions  of  the  land ; assembling  thousands  fought 
on  the  banks  of  the  Jordan  and  took  the  princes  Oreb  and 
Zeeb,  while  Gideon  pressed  far  east  of  the  Jordan  to  the  hab- 
itations of  the  Midianites  and  defeated  them  there  by  Nobah 
and  took  their  two  kings,  Zebah  and  Zalmunna. 

Almost  two  hundred  years  after  the  battle  of  Gideon,  Israel’s 
first  king,  the  giant-like  Saul,  wdiom  Samuel  had  anointed 
king  over  the  people,  ended  his  tragic  and  sorrowful  history 
here  on  Gilboa.  AVhile  his  arm)’’  w’as  pitched  on  the  slopes 
of  Gilboa,  the  Philistines  lay  fovar  miles  north,  across  the 
narrow  plain,  at  Shunem,  upon  the  slopes  of  Little  Hermon. 
What  a contrast  between  Saul  and  Gideon.  David,  the  gallant 


SCENE  AT  ENDOR. 


397 


conqueror  of  the  Philistines,  the  only  man  in  all  Israel  who 
could  have  led  the  armies  to  victory  against  the  Philistine 
hosts,  had  been  driven  by  his  own  cruel  father-in-law  to  take 
refuge  among  these  same  Philistines.  It  was  only  by  a pecul- 
iar circumstance  that  David,  with  his  six  hundred  men,  was 
not  in  the  Philistine  army  engaged  in  this  battle  against  Saul 
and  Jonathan.  (I.  Samuel  xxix.  1-7.)  Samuel  the  prophet 
was  dead  and  buried  at  Ramah,  and  the  Lord  had  turned  his 
face  and  his  ear  from  Saul  and  had  refused  to  answer  him, 
cither  by  dreams  or  by  vision  or  by  the  prophets.  As  Saul 
looked  across  the  narrow  plain  from  the  heights  of  Gilboa  and 
saw  the  Philistines,  ‘‘  he  was  afraid,  and  his  heart  greatly 
trembled.”  (I.  Samuel  xxviii.  5.)  It  was  an  awful  strait  to 
which  he  had  been  reduced.  What  calamity  could  have  over- 
taken him  equal  to  his  being  abandoned  by  the  Lord?  lie 
had  long  before  forsaken  the  Most  High.  The  night  was  al- 
ready now  passing.  To-morrow  the  battle  must  be  met  and 
fought  in  the  plain  before  the  camp.  What  a scene  follows ! 
When  the  weary  hosts  of  warriors  sleep  in  quiet  repose  in  the 
camp,  Saul  rises  from  his  pallet,  and  with  his  servants,  steals 
softly  in  disguise  out  of  camp,  climbs  over  the  slopes  of  Gilboa, 
down  into  the  valley  and  across  the  plain  and  along  over  the 
lower  slopes  of  Little  Hermon  and  enters  Endor,  and  searches 
out  a cave  where  he  may  commune  with  a haggard  witch,  per- 
chance to  learn  the  fortunes  of  the  morrow’s  battle.  A scene 
60  vivid  and  melancholy  has  nowhere  else  been  painted  on 
the  pages  of  human  history.  In  that  cavern  in  the  rocks  as 
the  midnight  hour  came  on  apace,  the  ghost  of  Samuel  stands 
before  the  affrighted  witch  and  the  disconsolated  king,  and 
tells  him  that  God,  because  of  his  sins,  hath  rent  the  kingdom 
out  of  his  hands  and  given  it  to  David,  and  that  to-morrow, 
not  only  Saul  but  his  sons  should  be  with  him  in  the  world  of 
spirits ! There  on  the  hard  damp  floor  prostrate  lay  the  once 
proud  and  noble  Saul,  overwhelmed  with  the  pangs  and  sor- 
row of  the  message.  But  when  the  morning  came  Saul  had 
returned  to  the  camp  on  Gilboa  and  waited  the  battle-scene. 
While  Saul  had  stolen  across  the  plain  to  Endoi-  in  the  night. 


398 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


the  Philistines  had  prepared  for  the  battle  by  crossing  the 
plain  and  confronting  the  army  of  Israel.  And  the  Philis- 
tines fought  against  Israel,  Avho  fled  to  the  mountain  wounded 
and  dying.  Jonathan  and  his  tAVO  brothers,  Ahinadab  and 
Melchi-shua,  were  slain,  and  the  defeated  and  fleeing  Saul  was 
smitten  sorely  by  the  arroAvs,  and  sought  death  at  the  hands 
of  his  armor-bearer.  There  side  by  side  Saul  and  his  armor- 
hearer  lay  dead  on  Gilboa,  liaA'ing  eaeh  fallen  on  his  OAvn 
SAA’ord.  Standing  on  the  heights  of  the  mountain  AAdiere  the 
battle  AA'as  fought,  one  can  see  far  doAvn  the  A'alley,  toAvard  the 
Jordan,  through  AA'hich  Israel  fled  before  the  Philistines.  Only 
a dozen  miles  from  Jezreel,  toAA'ard  the  Jordan,  are  the  ruins 
of  Bethshan, — noAA'  called  Beisan, — AAdiere  the  Philistines  the 
day  after  Saul’s  defeat  gibbeted  the  bodies  of  Saul  and  his 
three  sons  to  the  aa’uIIs  of  the  city,  Avlu're  they  hung  until 
tidings  of  the  abuse  of  their  bodies  reached  the  ears  of  the 
valiant  men  of  Jabesh-gilead  beyond  the  Jordan,  aa  lio  came 
by  night  and  took  down  the  bodies  and  bore  them  to  Jabesh 
and  charred  them  AAuth  fire  to  prevent  their  desecration,  and 
buried  them  under  a tree.  (I.  Samuel  xxxi.  12,  13.) 

A century  and  a half  after  David  Avent  to  the  throne  of 
Israel,  Jezreel  became  the  scene  of  Elijah’s  combat  Avith  Avicked 
Ahab,  Avho  sold  himself  to  wickedness,  and  the  still  more 
Avicked  Jezebel.  Ahab  had  built  a summer  capital  here  at 
Jezreel.  There  are  no  remains  of  the  ancient  city.  A fcAV 
m’iserable  flat-roofed  huts,  built  of  anciently  iirejiarcd  stone, 
compose  the  present  town  called  Zerin.  Not  a shrub  or  tree 
shelters  the  bare  earth  or  relieves  the  bald  monotony  of  the 
place.  Hoav  it  reminded  me  of  the  stanza  in  David's  song  of 
lamentation:  “Ye  mountains  of  Gilboa,  let  there  be  no  deAA', 
neither  let  there  be  rain,  upon  you,  nor  fields  of  offerings : for 
there  the  shield  of  the  mighty  is  vilely  cast  aAvay,  the  shield 
of  Saul,  as  though  he  had  not  been  anointed  Avith  oil.”  (II. 
Samuel  i.  21.)  Fragments  of  sarcoiihagi,  broken  in  pieces, 
and  a number  of  these  ancient  marble  sarcophagi  sculptured 
AAuth  figures  of  the  moon,  the  crescent  symbol  of  the  god  Ash- 
taroth,  scattered  here  and  there,  are  almost  the  only  relics  of 


NAPOLEON'S  BATTLE. 


399 


ancient  Jezreel,  the  city  of  Jezebel.  I could  only  conjecture 
the  location  of  the  vineyard  of  Naboth,  the  good  husband- 
man, which  exceeded  in  beauty  and  richness  even  the  royal 
gardens  of  Kiirg  Ahub.  It  probably  lay  on  the  slopings  of 
the  hill  toward  the  little  valley  eastward  from  the  royal  build- 
ings. Somewhere  down  there  in  the  valley  they  carried  Na- 
both, wickedly  condemned  by  a hellish  device  of  Jezebel,  and 
stoned  him  until  he  died.  (I.  Kings  xxi.  13.)  His  one  offense 
was  being  the  owner  and  keeper  of  a better  vineyard  than 
Ahab.  What  memories  of  terror  and  l)lood  sprinkled  over 
these  hills  and  valleys  lay  before  me,  as  I stood  above  the 
mounds  which  cover  the  ruins  of  ancient  Jezreel!  I have 
alluded  to  some  of  these  battle-scenes.  Looking  almost  west 
from  the  splendid  site  of  .Jezreel,  tlie  eyes  rested  on  Megiddo, 
against  the  hills  of  Manasseh,  where  two  hundred  and  sev- 
enty-five years  after  the  time  of  Ahab  the  good  King  Josiah 
fought  bravely  against  Nechro,  King  of  Eg^-pt,  and  was  hit 
by  the  archers  and  sore  wounded,  so  that  he  Avas  placed  in 
another  chariot  and  borne  bleeding,  suffering,  and  dying  to 
Jerusalem.  (II.  Chronicles  xxxv.  23,  24.)  Beyond  lay  the 
fields  over  Avhich  Napoleon  fought  against  the  combined  power 
of  the  Turks  in  the  early  summer  of  1799.  The  Turks  had 
collected  not  less  than  fifteen  thousand  horsemen,  and  as 
many  more  on  foot.  For  sixteen  hours  a deadly  hand  to 
hand  slaughter  went  on,  when  Naijoleon  appeared  on  the  scene 
close  under  the  hills  of  Manasseh  and  charged  so  fearfully  that 
the  Turks  lied  into  the  swamps  of  Kishon,  Avhere  the  army  of 
Sisera  with  his  chariots  Avere  once  overtaken  by  destruction. 
Yonder  down  the  same  plain,  over  Avhich  other  fleeing  armies 
have  hastened,  the  l\Iamelukes  and  whole  Arab  army  fled. 

Standing  on  the  site  of  Jezreel  the  eye  looks  over  the  battle- 
field to  Carmel  and  rests  upon  the  scene  of  Elijah’s  conflict, 
sixteen  miles  distant,  while  the  entire  distance  over  Avhich 
Elijah  ran  before  the  chariot  of  Ahab  is  in  full  view.  (I.  Kings 
xvii.  44-46.)  Looking  eastward  is  the  Avay  up  which  the  old 
prophet  came  to  meet  Ahab  in  tbe  vineyard  of  Naboth,  there 
to  announce  to  him  his  doom,  that  Avhere  the  dogs  had  licked 


400 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


the  blood  of  Naboth,  there  also  should  the  dogs  lick  his  blood, 
and  that  as  for  Jezebel,  the  dogs  should  eat  her  by  the  wall  of 
Jezreel.  Far  down  toward  the  Jordan  the  eye  courses  out  the 
spot  where  the  watchman  on  the  tower  of  Jezreel  saw  Jehu 
and  his  company  driving  with  haste  (II.  Kings  ix.  17),  to  he 
met  by  Joram,  king  of  Israel,  and  Ahaziah,  king  of  Judah, 
b}’  the  gardens  of  Naboth.  There  Jehu  smote  Jehoram,  and 
Bidkar  threw  him  in  the  vineyard  of  Naboth,  while  Jehu  fol- 
lowed Ahaziah  in  the  plains  and  smote  him  in  his  chariot, 
until  he  died  at  Megiddo.  When  Jehu  returned  to  Jezreel, 
Jezebel  painted  her  face  in  disguise,  and  from  a window  in  the 
palace  over  the  wall  beheld  his  triumph  only  for  a moment, 
when  she  was  thrust  over  the  wall  down  into  the  road,  to  be 
trampled  by  the  horses  and  eaten  by  the  dogs.  Thus  twenty- 
five  years  after  her  threat  against  Elijah  to  make  him  as  her 
Baal  priests,  and  twelve  years  after  Elijah  had  entered  heaven 
in  a chariot  of  fire,  Jezebel  was  eaten  by  the  dogs  here  at  Jez- 
reel.  (II.  Kings  ix.  36.)  The  walls  of  Jezreel  are  gone,  and 
the  garden  of  Naboth  has  left  no  traces  of  its  beauty.  A sor- 
rowful historv  sprinkles  its  memories  over  Esdraelon,  Gilboa, 
and  Jezreel. 

Amid  these  battle-fields  and  memories  of  blood  it  was  a 
relief  to  the  heart  to  look  upon  Shunem  with  its  tender  memo- 
ries of  the  old  Prophet  Elisha  and  his  little  chamber  in  the 
home  of  the  noble  Shunammite  woman.  I delighted  to  think 
of  Jesus  coming  up  the  plain  from  the  Sea  of  Galilee  to  the 
gate  of  yon  little  town  on  the  slopes  of  Little  Hermon,  just  in 
time  to  give  back  to  a widowed  mother  her  only  son,  from  the 
very  bier  by  which  he  was  being  carried  to  his  burial.  How 
the  life  and  deeds  of  Jesus  contrast  here  with  the  memories 
of  E.sdraelon  ancj  the  cities  which  nestled  about  it. 

The  sun  began  to  sink  toward  Mount  Carmel.  We  turned 
our  horses  toward  Jenin,  lying  on  the  southern  border  of  the 
plain.  As  we  rode  out  of  Jezreel,  somewhere  close  to  the 
grounds  which  composed  the  garden  of  Naboth,  some  women 
and  children  where  thrashing  grain  and  winnowing  the  chaflf 
from  the  wheat  on  a large  flat  rock.  Two  women  were  sitting 


WOMEN  GRINDING  AT  THE  MILL. 


401 


near  by  on  the  ground  grinding  wheat  with  a hand-mill, 
■which  consists  of  two  roughly -dressed  stones  about  sixteen 
inches  in  diameter.  This  manner  of  grinding  grain  was  known 
as  far  back  as  liistory  reaches.  When  Moses  informed  Israel 
of  the  destruction  God  was  about  to  Avork  among  the  Egypti- 
ans, he  told  them  that  even  the  “first-horn  of  tlie  maid-serv- 
ant that  is  behind  the  mill”  was  to  bo  slain.  (Exodus  xi.  5.) 
The  laAV  of  God  to  Israel  exempted  the  u])per  and  the  lower 
mill-stones  from  being  taken  for  debt,  as  these  were  es.sentiaJ 
to  the  life  of  a family.  (Deuteronomy  xxiv.  G.)  Our  Lord, in 


WOJiTErN  GRITrarNG  AT  A MIL!.. 


his  description  of  his  second  coming, in  describing  the  sudden- 
ness of  his  apjAearing  and  the  separations  of  that  hour,  says, 
“Tavo  women  shall  be  grinding  at  the  mill:  the  one  shall  be 
taken  and  the  other  left.”  (Matthew  xxiv.  41.) 

All  about  Jezreel  we  saw  a number  of  rock-hewed  cisterns. 
They  are  great  cisterns  cut  deep  and  in  solid  rock,  with  an 
opening  two  or  three  feet  in  diameter.  As  one  looks  at 
these  cisterns  at  .lezreel,  he  can  not  but  remember  the  terrible 
drought  of  this  land  in  the  times  of  Ahab.  These,  as  well  as 

those  at  Samaria,  were  dry,  and  Obadiah  was  sent  to  “all 
26 


402 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


fountains  of  water,  and  unto  all  brooks,”  to  find  pasturage  for 
the  king’s  flocks.  Some  of  these  cisterns  possibly  belonged  to 
Ahab,  or  to  the  city  in  ancient  times.  It  is  easy  to  picture  to 
tlie  mind  the  starving  and  thirsty  throngs  coming  to  the 
fountain  or  cistern  (these  words  are  the  same),  only  to  learn 
that  all  the  water  had  been  exhausted.  It  was  anciently  the 
custom  to  fill  these  cisterns  in  the  rainy  season  and  fasten  and 
seal  them  for  use  in  the  summer.  (Sungs  of  Solomon  iv.  12.) 
When  the  supply  in  one  cistern  would  become  exhausted,  an- 
other fountain  would  be  unsealed  and  opened  in  the  ])rcsence 
of  the  people.  Such  a scene  was  before  the  eye  of  the  Prophet 
Zechariah  when  he  saw  the  spiritual  blessings  of  Christ  for  a 
famishing  world  and  exclaimed,  ‘'In  that  day  there  shall  be  a 
fountain  opened  to  the  house  of  David  and  to  the  inhabitants 
of  .lerusalem  for  sin  and  for  uncleanness.”  (Zechariah  xiii.  1.) 
Some  of  th(‘,se  cisterns  are  of  immense  size,  and  are  found  in 
various  paids  of  Palestine.  They  were  so  located  as  to  catch 
the  rain-fall  from  a considerable  table-land;  and  the  water 
thus  i)reserved  was  of  great  service  in  the  dry  season  in 
watering  the  gardens  and  vine}uirds.  It  must  have  cost  vast 
labor  to  hew  one  of  them  out  in  the  solid  limestone  rock. 
Many  of  these,  like  the  pools  in  southern  Palestine,  are  doubt- 
less of  great  antiquity.  They  were  mostly  dry  when  we  saw 
them,  and  are  largely  unused  for  the  purposes  to  which  they 
were  devoted  long  ago.  When  the  land  was  densely  popu- 
lated and  highly  cultivated  one  of  these  cisterns  was  of  great 
value  to  a kee])cr  of  a vineyard.  During  the  summer  the 
failure  of  the  water  by  leakage  would  have  iwoved  a great 
loss.  More  than  six  hundred  years  before  Christ,  .leremiah 
alluded  to  such  a calamity  when  he  speaks  for  the  Lord  and 
says,  “ My  people  have  committed  two  evils;  they  have  for- 
saken me  the  fountain  of  living  waters,  and  hewed  them 
out  cisterns,  broken  cisterns,  that  can  hold  no  water.”  (Jere- 
miah ii.  13.) 

By  evening  we  were  across  the  plain  of  Esdraelon,  and  went 
in  among  the  great  cactuses,  which  grow  like  trees,  even  to  the 
height  of  ten  and  fifteen  feet,  and  found  our  tents  at  Jenin. 
Four  burly,  stout  Arabs  guarded  our  camp  for  the  night. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


Jenin  — Cactus  — Date-Palm  — Women  at  the  Tomhs — Dothan  — Joseph 
Sold  — Elisha  at  Dothan — Watering  Camels — Samaria  — Home  of  the 
Prophets — Colonnade  of  Herod  — Church  of  St.  John  — Siege  of  Ben- 
hadad  — Philip  at  Samaria  — Peter  at  Samaria  — Sight  of  Ebal  and 
Gerizim  — Gathering  Sticks  — Arabs  at  Meal. 


^itXIX  is  a town  of  about  three  thousand  people,  on 
the  southern  edge  of  tlie  plain  of  .Tezreel,  seven  miles 
south  of  -Tezreel,  and  on  the  l)order  of  the  hills  of  Sa- 
^|,^iuaria.  It  is  prol)ahly  the  ancient  En  Gavnim  (garden 
springs)  given  to  tlie  Levites.  (Joshua  xix.  17-21;  xxi. 

1 28,  29.)  It  is  substantially  built  of  stone,  and  on  the 
west  and  south  has  beautiful  gardens  sui-rounded  with  im- 
mense cactuses  ten  or  fifteen  feet  high,  tvliich  were  in  delight- 
ful bloom.  Some  of  the  flowers  were  as  larg(>  as  a lady’s  bonnet. 
Here  and  there  a stately  jialm  lifts  itself  ulmve  the  gardens. 
Royal  growths  of  the  palm-tree  are  found  in  many  places  in 
southern  and  western  Palestine.  It  was  formerly  abundant 
in  the  .Iordan  valley.  I saw  one  solitary  palm  at  Capernaum, 
and  a few  at  Tiberias,  on  the  Sea  of  Galileo.  Jericho  was 
known  as  the  “City  ol'  Palm-trees,”  in  the  times  of  its  pos- 
session by  Joshfia  when  he  led  Israel  into  Canaan.  (Deuteron- 
omy xxxiv.  3;  Judges  i.  16,  and  iii.  13.)  The  palm-tree  grows 
luxuriantlj’’  along  streams  of  water;  and  there  is  beauty  and 
majesty  as  well  as  delicacy,  which  I can  not  describe,  bift 
which  one  always  observes  with  a sense  of  reverence  as  he 
looks  upon  the  stately  palm.  Hei’e,  often,  their  towering  forms 
brought  to  memory  that  poetic  utterance  of  the  psalmist, 
“ The  righteous  shall  flourish  like  a palm-tree.”  (Psalms  xcii. 

403 


404 


TilE  llulA  LASD 


12. )  Jeremiah  in  S})eakiug  of  the  idolatry  of  the  people  and 
the  perfect  workmanship  of 
‘■and  must  needs  be  borne 
because  they  can  not  go,” 
says,  “ The\’  are  uj:»right  as 
the  palm-tree.”  (Jeremiah 
X.  5.)  So  beautiful  is  the 
form  of  the  palm-tree  that 
Solomon  carved  the  walls 
and  doors  of  the  temple  on 
Moriah  with  figures  of  the 
cherubims  and  open  flowers, 

?p:id  palm-trees.  (I.  Kings 
ri.  29.)  It  was  branches  of 
these  palm-trees  which  the 
multitude  st reeved  in  the 
way  of  the  Savior's  triumph- 
al approach  to  .Jerusalem  as 
he  crossed  Mount  Olivet. 

(Matthew  xxi.  8;  John  xii. 

13. )  • Our  illustration  gives 
a good  and  truthful  repre- 
sentation of  the  palm-tree 
so  sacred  in  Bible  history, 
trunk  or  wood  is  worthless.  It  is  soft  and  full  of  fibers,  which 
cross  the  stick  at  various  angles.  It  is  almost  impossible  to 
split  the  wood,  and  its  porous  nature  makes  it  useless. 

A splendid  spring  supplies  water  for  the  town,  where  it 
forms  a clear  pool  in  the  western  part  of  the  village,  which  is 
a place  for  the  collecting  of  women  and  men  for  conversation. 

Early  in  the  morning,  as  the  day  began  to  dawn,  I rose 
from  ni}’  bed  and  hastened  to  make  some  ol)servations  about 
the  town.  Just  back  of  our  camp  was  a large  IMohammedan 
burial-ground.  I saw  twenty-five  or  thirty  IMohammedan 
women  in  this  grave-yard  saying  jwayers  at  the  graves.  Some 
of  them  were  poorly  dressed,  but  many  wore  clean  coverings 
of  white  over  the  entire  body  and  over  their  head  and  face. 


the  idols  which  could  not  speak, 


DATE-PALM. 


The  fruit  is  deliciou.s,  while  the 


WOMEN  AT  THE  TOMBS. 


405 


They  would  kneel  down  around  one  grave  for  aw'hile  and 
then  go  to  another,  performing  the  same  ceremonies  at  each. 
This  was  continued  until  the  sun  was  l)eginning  to  rise  in 
tlie  heavens.  It  is  the  custom  of  Mohammedan  women  and 
children  to  go  at  least  once  a week  to  the  tombs  of  the  dead 
with  myrtle,  an  offering  of  love,  and  there  sorrow  for  the  de- 
j)arted.  This  same  sorrowful  .scene  I witnessed  at  Damascus 
and  many  other  places. 


WEEPING  FOR  THE  DEAD. 

From  Jenin  wc>  direct('d  our  journey  toward  Samaria  by  way 
of  Dothan.  Our  way  was  chosen  up  a fine  valley;  then  over 
rough  hills,  from  which  we  could  .sometimes  have  a view  of 
the  Mediterranean  Sea  far  off  to  the  west.  By  nine  o’clock 
our  eyes  rested  upon  the  Plain  of  Dothan,  stretching  out  for 
three  or  four  miles  in  either  direction.  The  site  of  ancient 
Dothan  is  found  on  a very  high  hill,  probably  three  hundred 
feet  above  tbe  valley.  There  are  a few  houses  on  the  top 
of  the  hill.  The  ruins  show  that  at  remote  times  large  build- 
ings stood  here.  A square  building  with  heavy  stone  walls 
is  now  one  of  the  sacred  places  of  the  Mohammedans.  The 
hill  is  covered  with  olive-trees.  I rode  up  the  steep  slopes 


406 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


and  found  a vast  plateau  covered  witli  these  ruins.  In  a 
square  inclosure,  surrounded  with  a massive  wall,  is  a niche 
Avith  an  arch  three  or  four  feet  high.  In  this  niche  sat  an 
image  in  the  form  of  an  idol-god,  while  a white  flag  Avas 
susi)ended  close  hy.  This  is  evidently  a sacred  place  of  the 
Mohammedans,  hut  hy  Avhat  means  the  stone  image  Avas  set 
ujA  there  I do  not  knoAV. 

BeloAV  the  hill  in  the  valley  is  yet  to  he  seen  the  well  or  cis- 
tern into  which  Joseph  Avas  cast  hy  his  brethren.  (Genesis 
xxxvii.  24.)  After  he  had  been  put  into  the  pit,  the  Bible 
tells  us  that  his  brethren  “ sat  doAvn  to  eat  bread : and  they 
lifted  up  their  eyes  and  looked,  and,  behold,  a company  of 
Ishmaelites  came  from  Gilead,  Avith  their  camels  bearing 
spicery  and  balm  and  myrrh,  going  to  carry  it  doAvn  to 
Egypt.”  (Genesis  xxxvii.  25.)  From  this  place  they  could 
certainly  see  a great  distance.  There  are  indeed  feAv  places 
Avhere  the  road  can  be  so  far  .scanned  as  from  this  point. 
The  place  ansAvers  well  to  the  description  given  in  the  Bible 
narrative.  And  these  pasture-lands  Avould  naturally  attract 
the  brethren  of  Joseph  from  Shechem, — about  fifteen  miles, — 
to  Dothan  Avith  their  flocks.  No  doubt  I passed  over  the 
lands  Avhere  the  great  flocks  of  Jacob  were  then  pastured. 
And  liere  the  youthful,  tender,  and  innocent  Joseph  cried 
and  ])lcaded.  beseeching  his  brethren  in  the  anguish  of  his 
soul  nf>t  to  sell  him  away  from  his  father.  But  they  Avould 
not  hear  him.  In  fancy  I coukl  see  the  heart-broken  child 
stripped  of  his  pretty  coat,  led  by  the  band  of  strangers  aAvay 
from  the  prospect  of  ever  seeing  father  or  cruel  brothers  again, 
looking  back  and  still  crying  and  hoping  that  they  Avould 
relent  and  allow  him  to  return  to  them.  The  jJace  is  still 
knoAvn  by  the  name  Tell  Dothan  (the  Heap  of  Dothan).  It 
was  here  also  that  Elisha  for  a time  had  his  home,  and  was 
surrounded  by  the  army  of  the  king  of  Syria,  but  found  deli\'- 
erance  in  answer  to  prayer  by  Avhich  the  Syrians  were  smitten 
AA’ith  blindne.ss,  and  by  Elisha  led  ten  miles  to  Samaria.  (II. 
Kings  vi.  18,  19.) 

Four  or  five  miles  before  reaching  Samaria,  the  ancient  cap- 


SAMARIA. 


407 


ital  of  this  country,  -we  took  lunch  in  an  old  olive  - orchard 
close  by  a splendid  spring.  A number  of  really  handsome 
Avomen  and  children  Avere  busy  in  the  orchard  gathering  the 
oliA'es.  The  olive  is  a small  fruit,  not  so  large  as  a damson; 
though  these  trees  are  as  large  as  an  apple-tree,  and  are  loaded 
AA'ith  oHa’cs  as  thickly  as  one  imagines  they  could  hang  on  the 
tree.  The  AA’omen  had  their  Avrists  and  necks  and  faces  heav- 
ily adorned  Avith  bracelets  and  strings  of  silver  ornaments  and 
coins.  A number  of  natiA’es  AAuth  their  camels  Avore  croAvded 
around  the  spring  Avatering  their  beasts.  Some  of  the  camels 
AA'ere  brought  up  to  the  fountain  and  made  to  kneel  doAvn  and 
drink  a long  time.  While  this  aauis  going  on  other  camels  lay 
off  at  a distance,  and  the  Avomen  carried  Avater  to  them,  held 
up  the  camels’  heads,  and  poured  the  Avater  doAvn  their  throats. 
The  Avomen  continued  this  until  they  had  filled  up  the  poor 
creatures,  Avhich  AA'ere  apparently  glad  to  he  Avaited  upon  in 
this  summary  Avay.  Such  a scene  as  tliis  introduced  Moses  to 
the  daughter  of  the  priest  of  Midian  Avhen  a fugitive  fleeing 
from  the  Egyptians  (Exodus  ii.  16) ; and  it  Avas  in  the  A’ery 
midst  of  such  a scene  as  this,  three  thousand  seven  hundred 
and  forty  years  ago,  that  the  trusty  old  servant  of  Abraham 
in  search  of  a Avife  for  Isaac  met  the  fair  Rebekah.  (Genesis 
xxiv.  11.) 

Samaria,  the  capital  of  the  central  division  of  Palestine, 
had  one  of  the  most  delightful  locations  of  any  city  in  the 
Hoi}’’  Land.  A deep  A’alley  on  every  side  separates  this  emi- 
nence from  the  surrounding  Samarian  hills.  Standing  upon 
an  eminence  probably  four  hundred  feet  high,  Samaria  must 
have  had  a poAA’erful  defense  from  all  attacks  possible  to  an- 
cient methods  of  Avarfare.  It  Avas  to  this  highly-esteemed 
and  poAverful  location  that  the  prophet  referred  Avhen  he  ex- 
claimed, “ Woe  to  them  that  are  at  ease  in  Zion,  and  trust  in 
the  mountain  of  Samaria.”  (Amos  vi.  1.)  The  hill  is  quite 
a mile  long,  and  one  half  as  Avide.  !More  than  nine  hundred 
years  before  Christ,  and  just  before  Ahab’s  reign,  the  Avicked 
Omri,  king  of  Israel,  Avho  did  Avorse  than  all  that  Avere  before 
him,  bought  this  hill  (toAA-n  and  all)  of  Shemer  for  tAVO  tal- 


408 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


There  are  now  only  a few  houses  in  Samaria — prohablj’'  not 
more  than  thirty  or  forty  rude  huts.  Yet  the  ruins  of  its 
former  splendor  are  not  lacking.  The  towers  of  the  gateway 


ents  of  silver  (three  thousand  five  hundred  and  thirty-five 
dollars) ; and  on  the  hill  he  built  Shomeron,  as  it  was  called 
in  the  Hebrew,  but  known  as  Samaria.  (I.  Kings  xvi.  24.) 
It  continued  to  be  the  capital  of  the  ten  tribes  up  to  the  time 
when  they  were  carried  away  captive  by  Shalmaneser,  king 
of  Assyria,  seven  hundred  and  twenty  years  before  Christ. 
Somewhere  here  tlu'y  buried  Avicked  Ahab.  (I.  Kings  xxii.  37.) 

Samaria  was  the  seene  of  the  eonlliets  of  Elijah  and  Elisha 
in  the  times  when  wicked  rulers  bore  authority  over  Israel. 
]\Iany  are  the  scenes  of  battle  and  defeat  which  were  Avit- 
nessed  beloAV  this  lofty  hill.  Here  Elisha  resided  ; and  it  Avas 
to  this  city  that  Naaman  from  Damascus  came  as  a leper  ask- 
ing healing  of  the  king,  to  Avhom  he  had  been  recommended 
by  the  king  of  Damascus;  and  here  he  at  last  came  to  the 
Projrhet  Elisha,  of  Avhom  he  had  learned  through  a captive 
maid  of  Israel.  (II.  Kings  v.  l-lo.)  Down  the  valley  toward 
Jordan  he  at  last  drove  his  chariot  to  find  liealing  in  its  tur- 
bid flood. 


CHURCH  OF  ST.  JOHN. 


409 


to  the  great  colonnade,  erected  by  Herod  the  Great,  are  still 
standing  at  the  western  end  of  the  hill.  Herod  greatly  beauti- 
fied Samaria  and  adorned  it  with  temples  and  a tremendous  col- 
onnade, which  extended  almost,  if  not  entirely,  the  circuit  of 
the  hill.  This  colonnade  is  about  half  way  up  the  slope  of  the 
hill,  and  is  over  fifty  feet  wide.  I counted  over  one  hundred 
stone  columns  standing  along  beside  the  great  colonnade  once 
so  beautiful  and  grand.  These  columns  are  of  limestone, 
perfectly  round,  about  two  feet  in  diameter,  and  sixteen  feet 
high.  The  colonnade  certainly  extended  over  three  thousand 
feet,  or  quite  over  a half  mile.  Lieutenant  Conder  thinks  it 
extended  a circuit  of  five  thousand  five  hundred  feet.  Many 
of  these  columns  have  been  thrown  down,  and  lie  scattered 
and  broken,  or  half  hidden  in  the  dirt,  pr  built  into  the  ter- 
races and  walls  on  the  hill-side.  There  are  also  vast  ruins 
of  amphitheaters  and  temples  which  I visited,  which  crown 
the  north-eastern  end  of  the  hill.  The  real  design  and  char- 
acter of  some  of  the  structures,  the  ruins  of  which  are  here, 
have  not  been  fully  discovered. 

At  the  ea.stern  end  of  ancient  Samaria  is  the  Church  of  St. 
John  in  a dilapidated  condition.  It  was  built  by  the  crusaders 
about  seven  hundred  years  ago.  By  them  it  was  held  that 
John  the  Baptist  was  buried  here.  The  roof  is  gone  and  the 
walls  are  falling  into  decay.  Within  it  is  built  an  independ- 
ent structure  with  a dome,  as  a mosque.  We  alighted  from 
our  horses  and  s]>ent  some  time  in  examining  this  curious 
place.  The  whole  is  now  a sacred  Mohammedan  quarter. 
Entering  the  first  door  through  heavy  walls,  we  were  in  a large 
open  court.  From  this  we  descended  into  a grotto,  or  cham- 
ber, far  below.  We  crept  slowly  down  thirty-two  steps  to 
what  the  priest  told  us  was  the  tomb  of  John  the  Baptist. 
AVe  were  in  a large  chamber.  The  tomb  is  pointed  out  under 
a stone  slab.  I was  the  more  surprised  here  ahso  by  being 
shown  the  tombs  of  Elisha  and  Obadiah.  I held  a burning 
taper  to  the  little  opening  about  eight  inches  in  diameter  into 
the  vault,  and  could  see  what  seemed  to  be  some  decayed 
bones,  dirt,  and  broken  pottery.  These  prophets  were  buried 


410 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


somewhere,  and  probably  some  of  them  here  in  Samaria  — 
here  down  in  this  cavern  cut  so  deejily  in  the  solid  rock.  But 
■who  can  tell  ? One  looks  at  these  places  with  something  akin 
to  astonishment,  but  would  bring  insult  to  his  guide  if  he 
dared  to  intimate  that  he  did  not'  believe  these  traditions. 
The  men  and  boys  here  seemed  to  have  more  antiquities  and 
coin  than  at  any  other  place.  Dozens  of  boys  crowded  around 
us  with  antique”  to 'sell.  They  were  anxious  to  sell  them 
and  to  get  backshish.  The  gardens  of  olive-trees  and  lemons 
and  figs  about  Samaria  are  very  beautiful. 

As  I stood  on  the  summit  of  the  hill  covered  by  the  ruins 
of  ancient  Samaria,  looking  down  upon  the  surrounding  val- 
leys and  hills  beyond,  how  vividly  came  to  mind  the  events 
which  crowded  the  illustrious  life  of  Elisha  here.  When  the 
armies  of  Syria  lay  siege  against  this  city,  the  old  prophet’s 
head  had  been  threatened  by  the  king,  and  starvation  had  fal- 
len to  those  crowded  within  the  walls.  When  Elisha's  head 
Avas  under  sentence  of  the  king,  and  want  and  starvation 
stalked  in  every  home,  the  old  prophet,  dwelling  in  his  own 
house,  declared  that  on  the  morrow  a measure  of  fine  flour 
should  be  sold  for  a shekel  (fifty-eight  cent.s)  and  two  meas- 
ures of  barley  for  a shekel,  in  Samaria.  Down  there  at  the 
gate  lay  four  lepers  Avho  were  dying.  They  rose  in  the  mad- 
ness of  their  hunger  and  Avent  to  the  Syrian  camp  in  search 
of  food.  That  evening  the  hills  and  valleys  around  resounded 
Avith  a noise  of  horses  and  chariots,  Avhich  seemed  to  be  gath- 
ering for  battle,  until  the  Syrians  fled  doAvn  the  valley  Farah, 
toAvard  the  .Jordan,  the  great  highway  to  Gilead,  in  utter  con- 
sternation. (II.  Kings  vii.  6.)  At  every  step  they  heard  the 
tramp  of  pursuing  re-enforcements  to  Israel.  But  it  was  the 
voice  of  the  Almighty!  Thus  the  lepers  found  A^acated  tents 
filled  Avith  gold  and  silver  and  food.  Back  to  Samaria  they 
brought  the  glad  tidings  of  relief ; and  the  prophecy  of  Elisha 
Avas  fulfilled,  and  two  measures  of  barley  were  sold  for  a 
shekel,  in  this  city  where  the  day  before  an  ass’s  head  was 
sold  for  eighty  pieces  of  silver.  Nearly  a thousand  years  after 
this  striking  event,  Philip,  the  evangelist,  preached  the  gospel 


SIGJIT  OF  EBAL  AND  GERIZIM. 


411 


here;  and  the  simple  story  tells  us  “there  was  great  joy  in 
that  city.”  (Acts  viii.  5.)  To  this  jdace  came  Peter  and  John, 
sent  b}'  the  church  at  Jerusalem,  to  perfect  the  work  of  the 
Lord  so  wondrously  begun  by  Philip,  in  preaching  and  the 
working  of  miracles.  It  was  here  that  Peter  came  in  contact 
with  Simon,  who  offered  money  for  apostolic  power  to  bestow 
the  Holy  Ghost  by  <the  imposition  of  his  hands,  only  to  re- 
ceive the  withering  curse,  “ Thy  money  perish  with  thee.” 
(Acts  viii.  20.) 

The  name  of  the  village  at  the  site  of  ancient  Samaria  is 
Sabustieh,  or  Sehaste,  and  presents  a sad  comment  on  the 
wasted  glory  of  the  capital  of  ancient  Israel. 

The  sun  was  sinking  softly  westward  over  the  hills  of 
Samaria  when  we  rode  down  the  steep  at  the  south-eastern 
end  of  the  town  into  the  deep  valley,  rich  with  gardens  of 
olive  and  fig-trees,  and  turned  our  course  toward  ancient 
Shechem.  We  were  doubtless  in  the  same  valley  down  which 
Abraham  first  traveled  when  he  journeyed  soutliward  through 
the  land,  not  knowing  whither  he  went.  He,  coming  from 
Haran,  pitched  his  tent  ait  Shechem.  We  were  to  camp  beside 
the  same  city  over  the  approaching  Sabbath.  Amid  the  sur- 
rounding hills  we  journeyed  southw'ard  five  or  six  miles, 
when  suddenly  above  all  the  heights  of  Samaria  there  rose  in 
sight  the  twdn  mountains  of  blessing  and  cursing,  Gerizim  and 
Ebal,  between  which  lies  the  city  of  Shechem.  Their  lofty 
crests  of  limestone  rock  shining  in  the  receding  sun  presented 
a striking  contrast  with  the  deep  valley  up  which  we  passed 
under  their  shadow's.  This  valley  is  rich  with  trees  and  vines 
beyond  all  that  I had  seen  since  leaving  Damascus.  It  is  said 
that  not  less  than  seventy-fiv'e  springs  flow  out  from  these 
rocks  all  the  year  round.  The  gardens  and  orchards,  of  course, 
are  irrigated  to  the  best  advantage,  so  that  the  walnut,  olive, 
lemon,  orange,  fig,  and  other  trees  were  full  of  leaves  and  fruit 
as  if  full  autumn  and  summer  w'ere  blended  here. 

A little  way  outside  of  Shechem  we  saw  two  women  engaged 
in  gathering  sticks  wdth  which  to  kindle  a fire.  Thus  did 
Elijah,  almost  three  thousand  years  ago,  at  the  gate  of  Zar- 


412 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


ephath,  greet  the  woman  who  was  there  gathering  sticks  with 
which  to  prepare  the  last  “handful  of  meal”  and  the  last 
oil  in  a cake  for  her- 
self and  her  son.  (I. 

Kings  xvii.  10-12.) 

In  those  ancient 
times  the  hahits  of 
living  in  these  lands 
were  very  simple. 

Food  was  prepared  in 
the  rudest  manner 
and  eaten  with  the 
use  of  very  plain  table- 
furniture.  The  cent- 
uries have  made  but 
little  improvement  or 
change  in  the  domes- 
tic habits  of  the  peo- 
ple of  these  countries.  a.rabs  at  meai. 

They  eat  seated  around  a low  table  or  about  dishes  placed  on 
the  ground. 

As  we  entered  Shechem,  long  caravans  of  camels  loaded 
with  great  rolls  of  mats  and  other  merchandise  were  passed. 
One  stout,  burly  Arab  was  trying  to  ride  two  donkeys  at  a 
time.  He  would  ride  one  for  a distance  up  the  hill  and  then 
dismount  and  ride  the  other  a distance,  and  then  change 
again. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


'Shechem  — Valley  of  Shecbem — Camp  of  Abraham  — Joshua  and  Israel 
— Amphitheater — Mount  Gerizim  — Samaritan  Temple  — Climbing 
the  Mountain  — Samaritan  Worship  — Passover  — Sacred  Rock— Sa- 
maritan Population — Samaritan  Pentateuch  - Mount  Ebal. 


HE  present  name  of  the  city  occupying  the  site  of 
ancient  Shechem  is  Nablus,  being  an  abbreviation 
or  contraction  of  the  name  “ Flavia  Xeopolis,”  as  it 
was  called  after  its  enlargement  and  rebuilding  under 
y Titus  Flavius  Vespasian.  It  is  situated  in  a narrow, 
fertile,  well-watered  valley  lying  between  Mount  Ebal 
on  the  north  and  Gerizim  on  the  south.  The  city  is  almost 
three  quarters  of  a mile  long.  It  has  a population  of  about 
twenty  thousand  people.  The  valley  of  Shechem  is  from 
one  fourth  to  one  half  mile  wide,  being  narrowest  a little  way 
east  of  the  city.  The  tops  of  the  mountains  are  a mile  dis- 
tant from  each  other.  It  is  the  most  fertile  plain  in  Palestine, 
having  in  it,  in  and  about  Shechem,  not  less  than  seventy-five 
or  eighty  different  springs  of  splendid  water.  Its  gardens  are 
well  watered  and  teem  with  vegetables  of  luxuriant  growth. 
The  city  is  noted  for  its  extensive  manufacture  of  soap,  which 
is  made  of  olive-oil.  There  are  said  to  be  twenty-two  soap- 
factories  in  the  city.  It  is  the  head-quarters  of  the  Moham- 
medan government  for  this  part  of  the  country.  It  does  a 
good  business  in  tanning,  especially  in  the  tanning  of  leathern 
bottles  of  goats’- hides.  (See  description  on  page  347.)  The 
streets  of  the  town  are  narrow,  crooked,  and  dirty,  and  the 
people  are  excitable  and  rebellious  as  they  were  when  Reho- 
boam  came  here  to  be  made  king  over  all  Israel,  but  was  re- 

413 


414 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


jected  by  the  ten  tribes  who  set  up  a government  of  their  own 
under  “Jeroboam,  the  son  of  Xebat,  who  made  Israel  to  sin.” 
(I.  Kings  xii.  1-20.) 

Our  camp  was  pitched  just  on  the  edge  of  the  town,  over 
Sabbath.  With  this  w’e  w'ere  much  delighted ; for  scarcely  at 
any  other  place  in  Palestine  w'ould  we  have  preferred  to  pass 


a Sabbath.  To  be  encamped  here  where  w'e  may  climb  the 
heights  which  ages  have  overhung  with  so  marvelous  a charm 
is  a privilege  for  which  we  planned  diligently  and  labored 
hard  several  days.  We  were  wdthin  thirty-five  miles  of  Je- 
rusalem, w’hich  is  directly  south  of  Shechem,  and  near  the  very 


JOSHUA  AND  ISRAEL. 


415 


grounds  where  Abraham  camped  when  he  first  came  into  the 
land  of  Canaan,  nearly  four  thousand  years  ago.  (Genesis 
xii.  6.)  It  thus  becomes  one  of  the  most  interesting  spots  in 
Canaan.  Ebal  and  Gerizim,  the  mountains  of  cursing  and 
blessing,  tower  more  than  one  thousand  two  hundred  feet  high 
on  either  side  of  the  city.  At  the  east  end  of  this  valley  of 
Shechem,  in  the  plain  of  Moreh,  a mile  and  a half  from  the 
site  of  Shechem,  Jacob  pitched  his  tent  when  he  came  from 
Padan-aram.  There  he  bought  a piece  of  land  of  the  children 
of  Hamor,  for  one  hundred  i)i<‘ces  of  money,  and  it  was  un- 
der an  oak  which  was  bj’  Shechem  that  Jacob  hid  the  strange 
gods,  and  the  ear-rings  of  the  people  before  he  went  to  Bethel 
to  build  up  the  altar  of  God.  (Genesis  xxxv.  4.)  Here  he 
dug  a well  and  erected  an  altar  and  called  it  El-elohe- Israel. 
(Genesis  xxxiii.  18-  20.)  In  the  same  grounds,  a quarter  of  a 
mile  distant  from  the  well,  Israel  buried  the  body  of  Joseph, 
which  they  bore  with  them  during  their  forty  years’  journey 
from  Egypt.  (Joshua  xxiv.  32.) 

Mo.ses  through  some  means  had  knowledge  of  the  mount- 
ains about  Shechem ; for  he  gave  commandment  that  Joshua 
should  assemble  Israel  here  and  read  to  them  the  laws  of  the 
Lord,  putting  the  blessing  upon  Mount  Gerizim  and  the  curse 
upon  Mount  Ebal.  (Deuteronomy  xi.  29;  xxvii.  12.) 

When  Israel  came  into  the  land,  Joshua  brought  the  people 
up  from  Gilgal,  “ And  all  Israel,  and  their  elders,  and  officers, 
and  their  judges,  stood  on  this  side  the  ark  and  on  that  side 
before  the  priests  the  Levites,  which  bare  the  ark  of  the  cove- 
nant of  the  Lord,  as  well  the  stranger,  as  he  tluit  was  born 
among  them ; half  of  them  over  against  Mount  Gerizim,  and 
half  of  them  over  against  Mount  Ebal ; as  Moses  the  servant 
of  the  Lord  had  commanded  before,  that  they  should  bless  the 
people  of  Israel.  And  afterward  he  read  all  the  words  of  the 
law,  the  blessings  and  cursings,  according  to  all  that  is  written 
in  the  book  of  the  law.  There  was  not  a word  of  all  that  Mo- 
ses commanded,  which  Joshua  read  not  before  all  the  con- 
gregation of  Israel,  wdth  the  women,  and  the  little  ones,  and 
the  strangers  that  were  conversant  among  them.”  (Joshua 


416 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


viii.  33-35.)  I took  especial  interest  in  searching  out  the 
probable  place  of  this  assemblage. 

A short  distance  east  of  Shechem,  at  the  narrowest  part  of  . 
the  valley,  there  is  a natural  and  perfect  amphitheater  in  both 
Ebal  and  Gerizim,  directly  opposite  each  other.  It  could  not 
be  more  remarkably  adapted  for  such  a gathering  if  it  had 
been  excavated  and  prepared  for  the  assembly  as  were  the 
great  stadiums  of  Greece  and  Rome  for  their  gatherings.  No 
doubt  Moses  knew  of  this  place  and  ordered  this  meeting  to 
be  held  here.  One  reading  in  the  middle  of  the  valley  can  be 
distinctly  heard  on  either  side  far  up  the  mountain.  There  is 
not  another  such  a formation  on  the  globe.  The  whole  com- 
pany could  readily  be  made  to  hear  the  law  since  the  Levites 
were  commanded  to  “speak  with  a loud  voice.”  (Deuteron- 
omy xxvii.  14.)  On  the  side  of  Ebal  the  slopes  are  more 
rocky  and  precipitous,  while  the  amphitheater  in  Gerizim  is 
more  gentle  in  its  slope.  This  may  have  suggested  the  choos- 
ing of  Ebal  to  bear  the  curse.  As  we  examined  this  place  I 
had  no  possible  doubt  but  that  it  was  here  that  Israel  long, 
long  ago  covenanted  to  observe  all  the  law\  Alas ! for  their 
failure  in  the  times  which  follow^ed ; for  these  mountains  were 
destined  to  w’itness  the  rebellion  of  Israel  and  the  proud  and 
wicked  conduct  of  unholy  kings.  At  this  same  city  Joshua 
again  collected  Israel  to  receive  his  dying  charge.  (Joshua 
xxiv.  1.) 

During  our  stay  at  Shechem  several  of  our  company  made 
the  ascent  of  Mount  Gerizim,  upon  which  the  Samaritans 
built  their  temple  under  Sanballat  some  years  after  the  re- 
building of  the  temple  at  Jerusalem  by  Nehemiah.  One  of 
the  Samaritans,  a tall  fleet  son  of  Jacob  Shellaby,  conducted 
us,  so  as  to  economize  time  and  strength.  It  required  about 
two  hours  of  hard  climbing  to  make  the  ascent.  As  we 
started  out  of  Shechem  a number  of  lepers  came  after  us 
begging  and  crying  in  a most  pitiful  manner.  At  a spring 
at  the  base  of  the  mountain  a lot  of  women  and  children 
were  collected  washing  clothes.  Some  were  treading  on  the 
clothes  as  they  lay  in  the  rocky  channels,  while  others  were 


SAMARITAN  WORSHIP. 


417 


pounding  them  with  stones.  The  mountain  is  terraced  Avith 
stone  Avails  more  than  half  Avay  up  its  slope.  The  entire 
mountain  is  very  stony  and  rouglr  for  agricultural  purposes. 
It  is  utterly  destitute  of  timber  or  shrubs  except  at  its  base, 
AA’here  olives  and  figs  groAV  in  abundance.  Far  up  the  steep 
a few  men  were  piling  up  stone  or  digging  up  some  patches 
in  Avhich  to  soav  Avheat.  Here  and  there  a yoke  of  small 
oxen  Avere  being  used  in  plowing  a little 'plateau  terraced, 


WORSHIP  OP  SAMARITANS  ON  MOUNT  GERIZIM. 


only  a few  yards  wide  and  a feAV  rods  long.  The  mount- 
ain is  someAvhat  in  the  shape  of  a letter  L,  placing  the 
top  of  the  letter  southivard.  The  ridge  running  north  and 
south  is  stated  by  Conder  to  be  two  thousand  eight  hundred 
and  forty -eight  feet  above  sea-lcA’el,  while  the  ridge  run- 
ning west  is  several  hundred  feet  lower.  Mount  Ebal  is  two 
hundred  and  twenty-seven  feet  higher  than  Gerizim.  Before 
reaching  the  angle  of  the  mountain  on  a plateau  we  came 

27 


418 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


upon  the  place  where  the  Samaritans  hold  their  annual  pass- 
over.  It  is  inclosed  by  a rude  stone  wall.  At  the  time  of 
the  passover, — the  first  full  moon  after  the  vernal  equinox, — 
the  entire  Samaritan  company,  of  whom  there  are  about  forty 
families,  remove  to  this  place  on  the  mountain  and  dwell  in 
tents  .seven  days.  At  sunset  on  the  appointed  day  they  kill 
a number  of  lambs,  roast  their  bodies  whole,  and  about  mid- 
night eat  them  with  unleavened  bread,  spending  the  remain- 
ing part  of  the  night  in  prayer.  I examined  the  rude  ])it  or 
round  hole  in  the  ground,  like  a well,  where  they  roast  them, 
and  also  the  place  where  they  burn  the  refuse  portions  of  the 
lambs ; but  at  the  time  of  our  visit  to  the  place  it  was  entirely 
unoccupied,  save  by  the  traces  of  this  peculiar  and  rude  wor- 
ship. Our  illustration  shows  these  Samaritans  in  waiting  for 
the  setting  of  the  sun,  the  signal  for  the  slaying  of  the  lambs. 

The  manner  of  celebrating  tliis  passover  is  thus  described 
by  Conder,  in  Tent-Worlc  in  Palestine,  Vol.  1,  p.  CO: 

“ After  special  preparation  b}'  prayer  and  the  reading  of  the  law,  the 
congregation  repair  to  the  plateau  or  lower  spur,  running  out  Avest  from 
the  high  ridge  of  Gerizim,  on  whicli  are  the  ruins  of  tlie  ancient  temple, 
and  it  is  at  this  time  covered  with  white  tents.  It  is,  however,  only  witliin 
the  last  thirty  years  that  this  lias  been  allowed  by  the  Moslems.  At  sun- 
set on  the  l.^th  of  Nisan  the  service  begins,  the  high-priest  standing  on  a 
large  stone  surrounded  by  a low  dry  stone  Avail.  A certain  proportion  of 
the  congregation  wear  long  Avhite  robes,  and  all  haA'e  white  turbans 
instead  of  the  usual  red  one.  Six  sheep  are  slain,  as  the  sun  goes  doAvn, 
by  the  Samaritan  butcher  cutting  their  throats;  the  entrails  and  right 
fore-legs  are  cut  off  and  burnt;  the  bodies  are  scalded  Avith  Avater  from 
two  huge  caldrons  heated  over  a fire  of  brushwood,  the  fleeces  removed, 
the  legs  skcAvered,  and  the  bodies  then  thrust  into  a sort  of  OA’en  in  the 
ground  (Tannur  in  Arabic),  covered  with  a hurdle  and  with  sods  of  earth. 
Here  for  five  hours  they  are  baked.  The  oven,  lined  Avith  stone,  can  be 
seen  on  the  mountain  all  the  year  round.  The  men  of  the  congregation 
gird  themselves  Avith  ropes,  and  with  staves  in  their  hands  and  shoes  on 
their  feet  as  though  prepared  for  a journey,  they  surround  the  meat  when 
brought  out,  and  generally  eat  standing  or  walking.  Of  late  years,  how- 
ever, they  have  been  seated.  The  Jews  have  ahvays  eaten  the  passover 
.seated,  in  Palestine,  but  until  lately  the  Samaritans  have  adhered  to  the 
ancient  and  prescribed  form  to  eat  ‘in  haste.’  The  scene  of  the  feast, 
dimly  visible  by  the  light  of  a few  candles,  is  one  of  unique  interest,  tak- 
ing the  spectator  back  for  thousands  of  years  to  the  early  period  of  Jewish 


SACRED  ROCK. 


419 


history.  The  men  eat  first,  the  women  next;  the  scraps  are  burnt,  and  a 
bonfire  kindled  and  Ibd  with  the  fat ; the  rest  of  the  night  is  spent  in 
prayer  for  four  hours.  On  the  following  day  rejoicings  continue;  fish, 
rice,  and  eggs  are  eaten,  wine  and  spirits  drunk,  and  hymns,  generally 
impromptu,  are  sung.  On  the  21st  of  the  month  another  pilgrimage  is 
made  to  Gerizim,  forming  the  eighth  festival  held  by  the  nation.” 

On  the  summit  of  the  mountain  are  vast  ruins,  several  hun- 
dred feet  in  length.  These  are  the  remains  of  the  Justinian 
fortress,  built  about  A.  D.  533  j and  also  Zeno's  church,  built 
about  A.  1).  474.  These  ruins  are  not  less  than  four  hundred 
feet  long  and  nearly  two  hundred  feet  wide,  with  the  great  res- 
ervoir and  caverns  cut  into  the  solid  rock.  Beneath  these  vast 
ruins  lie  the  foundations  of  the  temple  built  b\'  Sanballat.  A 
number  of  large  stones  which  once  formed  a jiart  of  this  tem- 
ple are  yet  to  be  seen  lying  in  their  original  position.  There 
are  three  rows  of  these  stones  partly  exposed  to  view.  The 
stones  are  about  three  feet  wide,  five  feet  long,  and  two  feet 
thick.  These  great  limestone  foundations  of  the  Samaritan 
Temple,  to  which  the  woman  at  Jacob’s  well  referred  when  she 
said  to  Christ,  “Our  fathers  worshiped  in  this  mountain” 
(John  iv.  20),  are  gradually  wasting  away  under  the  jiassing 
centuries.  The  tmnple  was  destroyed  one  hundred  and  thirty 
years  before  the  birth  of  Christ.  Within  the  line  of  the  old. 
wall  of  the  temple  is  a flat  rock,  almost  smooth  on  its  surface, 
sloping  slightly  toward  the  west,  which  is  the  sacred  rock  of 
the  Samaritan.s,  and  held  by  them  to  have  been  once  inclosed 
in  their  temple.  B}'  them  it  is  regarded  as  the  niost  sacred 
place  in  the  world.  It  is,  liowover,  unprotected  by  any  roof, 
and  when  I visited  it  had  just  been  used  as  a thrashing-floor, 
as  the  chaff  scattered  about  it  plainly  indicated.  It  is  sur- 
rounded by  a low  wall  of  stone,  loosely  ])iled  up,  and  by 
stones  lying  wildly  about,  which  once  jDossibly  composed  a 
part  of  the  temple  and  the  later  buildings.  At  the  west  end 
of  these  ruins  is  a cave  or  cistern.  The  Samaritans  hold  that 
it  was  here  that  Abraham  offered  Isaac ; and  there  is  shown 
beneath  the  brow  of  the  hill,  south  and  east  of  the  ruins,  a 
trough  cut  in  the  rock,  where  tlicy  assert  the  scene  was  en- 
acted. A curious  flight  of  steps,  called  the  “Seven  steps  of 


420 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


Abraham,”  lead  to  the  spot.  Some  years  ago,  when  only 
seven  or  eight  of  the  large  foundation-stones  above  referred  to 
were  visible,  the  Smaritans  held  that  these  were  “ ten  stones,” 
and  were  the  stones  brought  from  the  Jordan  by  the  ten  tribes 
upon  entering  Canaan.  Beneath  these  stones,  they  hold,  lie 
buried  the  treasures  of  their  ancient  temple. 

The  view  from  the  summit  of  Gerizim  is  a delightful  one. 
To  the  south-west,  beyond  the  barren  sand-hills  in  the  dis- 
tance, is  the  sea,  and  the  desolate  ruins  of  ancient  Ca-sarea  on 
the  coast.  Far  to  the  north,  over  the  slopes  of  Ebal,  are  the 
dim  ranges  of  Carmel.  To  the  northward  towers  Hermon, 
like  a great  giant,  with  its  summit  dressed  in  snow  and  cur- 
tained in  the  clouds.  Close  beneath  the  mountain,  portions 
of  Shechem  are  in  sight.  Eastward  is  the  plain  of  iMoreh, 
spread  out  at  the  foot  of  Gerizim,  and  beyond  the  plain  rise 
clearly  to  view'  the  blue  mountains  of  Gilead,  once  so  noted 
for  their  spices  and  balm.  “ Is  there  no  balm  in  Gilead  ?”  said 
the  prophet.  (Jeremiah  viii.  22 ; Genesis  xxxvii.  25.)  South- 
ward are  the  mountain  heights  surrounding  ancient  Shiloh. 
Everywhere,  save  at  Shechem  below,  the  eye  rests  upon  a land 
barren  and  desolate.  The  whole  presents  a wild,  romantic, 
and  indeed  almost  bewildering  scene  as  one  stands  here  on 
the  lofty  height  wdiich  commands  such  a w'onderful  view  of 
the  whole  land  of  Palestine. 

From  these  scenes  we  slowly  descended  the  mountain  of 
blessing,  gazing  awhile  upon  traditional  “ Jotham’s  Rock,”  a 
projecting  precipice  on  which  Jotham  is  said  to  have  stood 
when  he  cui-sed  the  Shechemites  for  their  ingratitude  to  his 
father  Gideon.  (Judges  ix.  7.)  When  we  again  reached  our 
camp  west  of  Shechem  the  day  was  far  spent.  The  remain- 
ing hours  were  passed  in  studying  the  word  of  God  as  it 
records  the  history  of  Shechem  and  Gerizim,  and  in  visiting 
among  the  Samaritans  with  a view  to  know  more  about  these 
peculiar  people.  The  Samaritans  occupy  a comfortable  quarter 
in  the  town,  w'here  they  live  in  good  houses.  Upon  the  occa- 
sion of  their  great  feasts,  w'hich  they  celebrate  according  to 
the  law  of  Moses,  they  all  camp  out  in  tents  on  the  top  of 


SA MA  R1  TAN  POPULA  TION. 


421 


Gerizim.  There  are  about  forty  families  of  these  wonderfully 
strange  people,  consisting  of  one  hundred  and  thirty  souls. 
The  author  of  “Picturesque  Palestine”  says,  “In  1874  they 
numbered  one  hundred  and  thirty-five,  of  whom  twenty-eight 
W'ere  married  couples,  ten  were  widows  advanced  in  years, 
forty-nine  were  unmarried  men  and  boys,  and  twenty  were 
young  girls,  many  of  whom  were  promised  in  marriage.” 
They  claim  to  be  the  remnant  of  the  ten  tribes  of  Israel;  and 
their  features  plainly  indicate  their  Jewish  parentage.  They 
are  monotheistic,  and  are  yet  looking  for  the  coming  of  the 
Messiah.  They  expect  him  to  aj){)ear  among  them  when  the 
world  is  just  six  thousand  years  old.  He  will  live  one  hundred 
and  ten  years  or  thereabout,  on  their  streets,  and  then  be  buried 
by  the  bones  of  Joseph  in  the  plain  of  Moreh.  The  world  is 
to  come  to  an  end  when  it  is  seven  thousand  years  old.  Dur- 
ing these  revolving  centuries  they  have  kept  themselves  dis- 
tinct and  separate  from  all  the  people  around  them,  and  are 
graduall}"  growing  fewer  in  number,  and  yet  expect  by  and 
by  the  world  to  he  converted  to  their  belief.  They  allow  a 
per-son  to  have  more  than  one  wife  if  the  first  wife  is  childless; 
and  when  a married  man  dies  his  nearest  relative  is  to  marry 
the  widow.  The  marriageable  men  are  more  numerous  than 
the  women,  and  it  has  not  been  without  difficulty  that  the 
adjustment  of  these  matters  has  been  accomplished.  Though 
their  marriage  alliance  has  been  confined  to  this  narrow  circle, 
they  appear  strong  and  handsome,  and  are  strikingly  intelli- 
gent. The  children  whom  we  met  were  bright  and  friendly, 
though  evidently  somewhat  surprised  at  the  appearance  of 
Americans. 

It  was  to  the  Samaritan  people  that  the  woman  belonged 
who  met  Christ  at  the  well  a little  way  east  of  Shechem.  Be- 
tween them  and  the  .lews  a great  antipathy  existed.  They 
held  the  traditions  and  beliefs  of  the  Jews;  but  instead  of 
going  to  Jerusalem,  wherever  they  had  colonies  or  people,  they 
always  turned  toward  Gerizim  and  Shechem  as  their  holy 
place.  They  have  but  one  synagogue  — a small,  plain,  almost 
rude  building,  reached  by  a crooked,  narrow,  stone  stairway, 


422 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


up  Avhich  we  passed  and  stood  in  a small  court,  al)out  Avhich 
several  children  were  playing.  A lone  lemon-tree  grows  close 
by  the  arched  door  leading  to  the  synagogue,  which  our  com- 
2)any  entered,  but  not  until  we  had  removed  our  shoes  from 
our  feet,  as  did  Moses  at  the  burning  Imsh.  The  stone  floor 
of  the  .'<mall  sanctuary  is  cov- 
ered Avith  mats,  aa  bile  a tinely- 
ornameiited  white  dainask- 
linen  curtain  hangs  down  at 
the  south  side,  concealing  the 
holy  2)lace  from  {tublic  view. 

To  this  little  veiled  recess  the 
prie.st  alone  is  allowed  to  en- 
ter. The  Samaritans  have 
only  the  first  five  hooks  of  the 
Old  Testament  as  their  Script- 
ures; and  here  they  preserve 
Avith  great  care  their  ancient 
eo|)ies  of  the  Samaritan  Pen- 
tateuch. They  read  and  cele- 
brate ju’avers  in  the  Samari- 
tan dialect,  though  they  speak 
Arabic  in  conversation.  At- 
tended by  Jacob  Shellaby,  a 
stout,  shrcAvd  old  man,  the 
high -priest  approached  the 
square  veil  of  the  holy  place. 

The  priest  then  drew  the  veil 
aside  and  entered  the  jJaee 
Avhere  the  treasures  are  pre- 
serA'ed.  He  took  doAvn,  one 
at  a time,  three  copies  of  their 

sacred  books,  and  unrolling  ancient  scroll  closed. 
them  from  their  splendid  coverings  of  silken  cloth,  allowed 
us  to  examine  them  as  thoroughly  as  desired.  Three  copies 
of  this  book,  tAvo  in  a scroll,  where  shoAvn  to  us.  The  oldest 
is  said  by  them  to  have  been  written  by  a great-grandson  of 


SAMARITAN  PENTATEUCH. 


423 


Aaron,  “ Abishua  the  son  of  Pliinehas  the  son  of  Eleazer  the 
son  of  Aaron,”  three  thousand  three  hundred  years  ago.  No 
doubt  these  writings  are  of  great  age,  belonging  probably  to  the 
third  century  of  the  Christian  era.  They  are  written  plainly 
on  skins  of  animals  aird  preserved  in  silver  cases,  and  wrapped 
in  royal  cloth  of  scarlet  and  green.  Their  high-priest,  Jacob, 
is  a tall,  slender  man  about  thirty-five  years  of  age.  lie  is  a 
kindly,  handsome,  fine-figured  person,  and  received  us  with 
much  courtesy,  as  did  also  Mr.  Shellaby,  the  chief  among 
them.  The  priest  wears  long,  rich,  flowing  robes,  and  a large 
turban  on  his  head.  The  chief,  Shellaby,  conducted  us  to  his 
house  and  led  us  up  several  flights  of  steps  and  over  flat  roofs 
into  his  dwelling,  which  is  quite  comfortable.  He  can  talk  a 
very  little  English.  And  here  we  were  introduced  to  his 
grandchildren.  The  high-priest,  Jacob,  also  accompanied  us, 
and  was  quite  free  to  communicate  in  conversation.  Our  host 
ordered  wines,  upon  which  we  were  soon  to  have  a good  time. 
AVe  explained  that  we  did  not  indulge  in  wine-drinking, 
though  we  assured  him  that  his  hospitality  was  highly  appre- 
ciated. This  he  somehow  could  not  understand.  Before  the 
wines  came  we  made  our  excuse  and  departed,  while  Shellaby 
reluctantly  consented  to  our  going. 

On  Sabbath  afternoon  our  company  collected  in  front  of  the 
tents  and  spent  an  hour  in  a Bible-class  reading,  reviewing 
and  discussing  the  Bible  record  of  the  events  which  have 
transpired  here  under  the  shadows  of  these  lofty  mountains 
during  the  ages  which  are  long  past.  While  we  were  reading, 
an  Arab  from  the  town  came  about  our  camp  and  persisted  in 
making  a noise.  The  head  cook,  George,  tried  hard  to  have 
him  become  quiet  by  telling  him  that  we  were  having  meet- 
ing and  must  not  be  interrupted.  All  efibrts  proved  of  no 
avail ; and  his  noise  continued  until  suddenly  as  the  flash  of 
lightning  George  gave  him  a good  slap  on  the  side  of  his 
head,  which  almost  knocked  him  over.  After  that  event 
he  was  calm  and  quiet  as  one  could  have  desired.  We  had 
occasion  before  this  to  learn  that  a good  blow  often  had  more 
force  and  bearing  with  these  Arabs  than  an  hour’s  talk  and 
argument. 


424 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


An  hour  or  two  before  night  about  one  hundred  and  fifty 
w'omen  and  children,  dressed  in  flashy  colors,  came  out  of  town 
near  our  camp  and  sung  songs  and  had  a great  time  dancing 
and  -whirling  around.  This  wuis  one  of  their  holidays,  and  they 
were  having  a good  time  — something  seldom  had  among  the 
Mohammedans. 

Mount  Elbal  is  more  barren  and  rocky  than  Gerizim,  and 
the  few  ruins  of  crusade  times  were  not  sufficient  :o  induce 
the  writer  to  undertake  its  ascent.  It  is  the  highest  mountain 
in  this  part  of  Palestine;  and  this  fact  no  doubt  led  the  cru- 
saders to  regard  it  as  the  place  where  Jeroboam  built  the 
calf-temple.  Conder  gives  its  height  at  three  thousand  and 
seventy -six  feet  and  five  inches  above  the  sea,  and  nearly  one 
thousand  thiee  hundred  feet  above  the  valley  at  its  base. 

S'nechem  was  one  of  the  cities  of  .refuge  appointed  by 
Joshua  I Joshua  xx.  7),  and  somewhere  upon  the  slopes  of 
Ebal,  Joshua  built  an  altar  unto  the  Lord  (Josluia  viii.  JO)  of 
the  stones  taken  from  the  Jordan  according  to  tl:e  conunand- 
ment  of  Moses.  (Deuteronomy  xxvii.  4-5.)  Here  at  Shechem 
was  also  the  sanctuary  of  the  Lord  where  Joshua  set  up  a 
great  stone  with  the  law  of  God  written  upon  it,  under  an 
oak.  (Joshua  xxiv.  26.) 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


Leaving  Sbechem — Lepers — Houses — Flat  Roofs — House-tops  — Plain 
of  Moreh — Tomb  of  Joseph  — Jacob’s  Well — Askar — Leaving  Jacob’s 
Well  — Balata  — Northern  Hills  of  Judea. 


X Monday  morning  onr  camp  was  broken  and  we  left 


Sbechem,  turning  our  cour.se  through  the  city  east- 
ward  into  the  Plain  of  Moreh.  As  we  passed  out  of 
Sheehem  we  met  a large  number  of  donkeys  and  camels 
j coming  into  town.  Many  of  these  were  loaded  with  brush 
for  fuel,  and  other  articles  fur  sale.  A small  bundle  of 
sticks,  two  of  which  are  carried  upon  the  back  of  a small 
donkey,  sells  for  ahoht  one  franc  (twenty  cents).  Some  of  these 
camels  were  lotided  with  charcoal.  A number  of  miserable  lep- 
ers came  around  us  as  we  were  leaving  Sbechem.  In  the  morn- 
ing when  we  arose  and  came  out  of  our  tent,  there  sat  about 
fifteen  of  these  poor  miserable  creatures  in  a long  row  on  the 
brow  of  the  hill  just  above  our  camp.  Some  were  men  and  some 
women.  Mlien  breakfast  was  over  and  our  dragoman  had 
called  out  “ Horseback,  gentlemen,”  they  crowded  around  us  as 
we  were  trying  to  get  on  our  horses  and  uttered  the  most  pitia- 
ble cries,  calling  out  “Haw'-w.\-Jee,  Haw-wa-.Tee,”  holding  out 
their  hands  for  backshish.  Their  scarred  faces,  some  of  which 
were  almost  decayed  with  the  loathsome  disease,  were  such  as 
I never  had  looked  into  before.  Some  of  them  had  their  faces 
partly  covered  with  filthy  rags,  some  were  barefooted  and  a 
number  of  their  toes  were  off,  and  .some  had  their  feet  tied  up 
in  rags.  They  would  hold  up  their  horrid  hands  from  which 
some  had  lost  all  of  the  fingers  and  others  a large  part  of  them, 
and  presenting  them  would  utter  that  indeseribable  whining 
cry  which  if  once  heard  never  can  be  forgotten.  We  threw  out 

425 


426 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


some  coins  for  them  to  pick  up,  more  with  a Anew  to  get  away 
from  them  and  to  prevent  them  from  following  us  than  for 
thoughtful  charity.  These  poor  lepers  are  found  in  all  parts  of 
Palestine,  but  are  most  numerous  in  and  about  the  larger  cit- 
ies. It  seems  that  the  people  of  the  villages  drive  them  from 
their  midst,  and  they  shelter  about  the  cities.  Leprosy  is  a 
loathsome  and  niA'sterious  disease.  It  is  not  certain  whether 
it  is  reall}'  contagious  or  hereditary;  certainly,  persons  do  not 
contract  it  from  ordinary  contact  Avith  lepers.  The  Avhite  lep- 
rosy is  described  in  Leviticus  xiii.  3-8,  Avhich  is  yet  found  in 
in  Palestine ; but  the  prevalent  disease  known  as  leprosy  is 
someAvhat  different.  Xo  cure  is  known  in  medical  science  for 
tubercular  leprosy ; and  it  is  belieA^ed  to  be  on  the  increase  in 
Palestine.  The  largest  number  of  lepers  are  found  at  Jerusa- 
lem, Avhere  they  are  assigned  separate  quarters  in  the  south- 
Avestern  part  of  the  city.  The  disease  does  not  make  its 
appearance  until  after  fourteen  years  of  age,  nor  after  forty- 
five.  It  ruins  all  real  pleasure  of  life,  destroys  physical 
health  and  mental  activity,  changes  the  voice  and  wastes  the 
form  and  features  and  fingers  and  toes,  and  leaves  a ghostly 
being  to  suffer  out  his  days  till  death  comes  to  the  relief.  And 
yet  there  are  no  hospitals  for  them,  and  they  are  allowed  to 
marry  and  produce  children,  Avho  in  turn  lead  OA’er  again  the 
same  living  death.  They  are  so  horrible  in  appearance  that 
at  first  one  hardly  has  any  feeling  for  them  other  than  utter 
abhorrence.  In  passing  through  and  around  Shechem  Ave  saw 
many  of  them  sitting  doAvn  by  the  gates  and  under  the  Avails, 
apparently  like  stupefied  brutes  Avaiting  for  death.  Oh ! the 
compassion  of  Jesus,  the  God-man,  Avho  once  traveled  these 
paths!  lie  healed  the  lepers.  Unclean,  filthy,  miserable, 
afflicted,  tormented  beings  like  these  Avere  the  objects  of  his 
compassion  and  healing  and  saving  pOAver. 

In  all  the  toAvns,  as  Avell  as  A-illages,  I saAv  only  the  flat- 
roofed  houses.  The  Avails  of  the  houses  are  thick  and  heavy, 
built  of  sun-dried  brick  or  of  stone.  In  the  peasant  villages 
mere  poles  are  laid  across  the  building,  and  brush  and 
Avood  and  a heavy  body  of  dirt  are  placed  on  the  top,  the 


HOUSE-TOrS!. 


4-27 


roof  being  perfectly  flat.  When  it  rains  the  dirt  is  rolled  solid 
again  hj’  means  of  a stone  cylinder-like  roller,  about  a foot  in 
diameter  and  two  feet  long.  These  house-toi)S  are  used  for  the 
same  purpose  that  a yard  in  America  would  serve.  Corn, 
clothes,  and  anything  of  the  kind,  will  be  seen  sjiread  out  on 
them  to  dry.  I frequently  saw  flax  spread  out  on  the  tops  of 
the  houses.  It  was  on  the  house-top  that  Rahah  of  Jericho 
concealed  the  spies  sent  out  by  Joshua  — for  she  “brought 
them  up  to  the  roof  of  the  house,  and  hid  them  with  the 
stalks  of  flax.”  (.Joshua  ii.  6.)  On  one  occasion  our  entire 
company  got  upon  one  of  these  houses  and  had  luncli  spread 
out,  where  all  enjoyed  a hearty  meal,  while  half-naked  Arabs, 
who  seemed  not  to  have  used  water  for  washing  since  the 
flood,  sat  around,  or  from  adjacent  trees  to  which  some  had 
climbed,  looked  at  us  wonderingly.  Tlie  women,  however, 
carried  water  for  our  company  and  for  our  horses  in  great 
jugs  from  a spring  a half  mile  distant  down  the  hill.  For 
this  service  they  were  of  course  well  rewarded. 

On  tliese  dirt-roofs  the  gra.ss  is  likely  to  spring  up;  but  it 
withers  as  soon  as  the  heat  of  the  sun  strikes  it.  For  thou- 
sands of  years  this  has  been  a symbol  of  feebleness,  insomuch 
that  the  psalmist  in  reproaching  the  wicked  exclaimed,  “Let 
them  be  as  the  grass  iqion  the  house-tops,  which  withereth 
afore  it  growcth  up.”  (Psalms  cxxix.  6;  also  II.  Kings  xix. 
26.)  In  the  larger  towms,  and  where  stone  is  used  for  walls, 
— old  stones  from  ancient  buildings  being  employed, — an  arch 
of  stone  is  built  up  to  support  the  roofs  and  stone  floor  above. 
Thus,  often  one  house-top  is  a kind  of  terrace  to  another. 
These  house-tops  are  sometimes  covered  with  tiling.  It  was 
by  the  removal  of  this  kind  of  roofing  that  the  men  were  ena- 
bled to  get  the  palsied  man  at  Capernaum  into  the  presence  of 
the  thronged  Savior  of  men.  (Luke  v.  19.)  A parapet  of  stone 
is  often  built  around  the  outer  part  of  the  house-top,  as  shown 
in  our  illustration.  Often  this  is  of  tiling  piled  up  four  or 
five  feet  high,  so  as  to  shut  out  the  view  of  any  inquisitive 
neighbor.  Unto  this  day  they  obey  the  commandment,  “When 
thou  buildest  a new  house,  then  thou  shaft  make  a battlement 


428 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


for  thy  roof,  that  thou  bring  not  blood  upon  thine  house,  if 
any  man  fall  from  thence.”  (Deuteronomy  xxii.  8.)  In  enter- 
ing the  large  chamber  of  the  Samaritan  chief  at  Shechem  Ave 
ascended  over  one  or  two  bouses  and  passed  through  narrow 
passes  of  tiling  before  coming  to  the  “upper  room.”  On  these 
house-tops  beds  are  spread  and  tlie  family  sleep  under  an  awn- 
ing in  the  warmer  part  of  the  year.  I often  saw  women  on 


ORIENTAL  HOUSE-TOP. 

the  house-tops  spinning,  and  nurses  taking  care  of  children. 
Often  the  IMohammedans  resort  to  these  places  to  pray,  as  did 
Peter  at  Joppa,  when  he  became  very  hungry  and  would  have 
eaten,  even  as  he  prayed,  about  the  sixth  hour.  (Acts  x.  9.) 

Turning  our  faces  from  Shechem  eastward,  we  rode  through 
the  valley,  while  on  the  right  were  the  slopes  of  Gerizim  and 
to  the  left  the  rocky  steeps  of  Ebal.  These  mountains  at 


TOMB  OF  JOSEPH. 


429 


many  places  are  honey-combed  with  caves  and  tombs.  A mile 
and  a half  eastward  from  Shechem  through  the  narrow  valley, 
and  we  were  where  the  mountains  on  either  side  suddenly 
break  off,  and  the  broad,  beautiful  plain  of  Moreh  spreads 
out  before  the  eye.  Here  close  under  the  brow  of  Gerizim  in 
the  plain  is  the  well  of  Jacob.  It  is  here  that  Jacob  “bought 
a parcel  of  a field,  where  he  had  spread  his  tent,  at  the  hand 
tlie  children  of  Hainor,  Shechem’s  father,  for  a hundred  pieces 
of  nione}',”  when  he  “ came  to  Shaleni,  a city  of.  Shecliem, 
Avhich  is  in  the  land  of  Canaan,  when  he  came  from  Padan- 
aram;  and  jhtched  his  tent  before  the  city.”  Here  Jacob 
dwelt  in  a tent  (Genesis  xxxiii.  18,  19)  with  Leah  and  Ra- 
chel, and  over  these  plains  he  whose  name  should  be  called 
Israel  led  his  flocks  like  a great  Bedouin  chief.  About  this 
spot  the  childreu  of  Jacob  played  in  their  childhood.  Per- 
chance Joseph’s  little  feet  ran  about  this  well  in  childish  in- 
nocence— he  whose  bones,  after  having  been  carried  forty 
years  through  the  wilderness  from  the  land  of  Egypt,  were 
liuried  yonder  a few  paces  away.  Here  tlie  sons  of  Jacob  fed 
the  flocks  of  their  father  before  returning  to  Dothan  (Genesis 
xxxvii.  13);  and  the  Samaritans  and  Mohammedans  point 
out  the  place  Avhere  Jacob  was  when  he  received  the  torn  and 
bloody  coat  from  the  hands  of  the  cruel  brothers  of  the  be- 
loved but  enslaved  son. 

Direct!}'  at  the  east  end  of  Ebal,  and  a little  more  than  a 
quarter  of  a mile  from  its  base  in  the  plain,  is  the  traditional 
tomb  of  Joseph.  There  is  something  suggestive  beyond  the 
di.scussion  of  this  page,  in  the  fact  that  Joseph  .so  honored  his 
own  lifeless  body  as  to  provide  that  it  should  be  buried  in  the 
land  of  Canaan ; for  he  “ took  an  oath  of  the  children  of  Israel, 
saying,  God  will  surely  visit  yoix,  and  ye  shall  carry  up  my 
bones  from  hence.”  (Genesis  1.  25.)  More  than  a hundred 
years  after  Joseph  died  in  Egypt  he  was  carried  to  Shechem, 
and  his  “ bones  ” were  buried  in  the  parcel  of  gromrd  which 
his  father  had  bought  of  the  sons  of  Hamor.  (.Joshua  xxiv. 
32.)  It  is  not  at  all  improbable  that  the  mummy  of  Jo.seph 
now  sleeps  near  the  modern  structure  Avhich  honors  the  place. 


430 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


A stout  stone  wall,  neatly  whitewashed,  and  about  twenty-five 
feet  square  and  ten  feet  high,  surrounds  a roofless  inclosure. 
The  tomb  ig  about  seven  feet  long  and  three  feet  high,  made 
in  the  shape  of  a grave  and  plastered.  Adjoining  this  in- 
closure is  a structure  of  stone,  with  a rude  dome  in  a dilapi- 
dated condition.  Two  small  stone  pillars  stand  at  the  tomb, 
one  at  the  head  and  .one  at  the  foot.  In  the  top  of  these  pil- 
lars is  a kind  of  bowl  hollowed  out,  which  is  black,  showing 
signs  of  having  been  used  in  burning  offerings.  In  the  wall 
of  the  inclosure  is  built  a stone  seat,  on  which  some  per.sons 
were  sitting.  One  of  them  came  and  begged  for  money  with 
which  to  buy  olive-oil,  as  he  said,  to  keep  up  a light  in  the 
small  earthen  lamp  seen  in  a niche  in  one  end  of  the  tomb. 
The  tomb  and  wall  were  erected  on  this  traditional  site  by  Mr. 
Rogers,  the  British  consul  at  Damascus,  in  1868,  as  is  .shown 
by  an  inscription  in  the  wall. 

From  the  tomb  of  Joseph  we  rode  directly  southward  across 
the  valley  of  Fhechem,  where  it  expands  into  the  plain  of 
Moreh,  to  Jacob's  well.  There  are  few  places  in  the  Holy  Land 
which  I had  .so  much  desire  to  look  upon.  At  first  I experi- 
enced a feeling  of  .sore  disappointment.  I had  always  thought 
of  “Jacob's  well”  as  having  Jesus  seated  beside  it  “wearied 
Avith  his  journey.”  A .sense  of  loneliness  and  sadness  stole 
over  me  when  I found  him  not  there,  but  instead,  crumbling 
ruins  and  heaps  of  decayed  buildings  lying  about  the  entrance 
to  the  well.  After  some  reflection  I was  contented  to  place  my 
humble  feet  where  my  Master’s  had  certainly  trodden,  and  to 
sit  on  the  same  spot  where  he  rested  as  his  “disciples  Avere  gone 
aAvay  into  the  city  to  buy  meat.”  Christians,  JeAvs,  Samaritans, 
and  Mohammedans  all  agree  that  this  is  the  veritable  “Ja- 
cob’s 'Well,”  dug  in  the  alluvial  .soil  and  rock  more  than  thir- 
tA'-six  hundred  years  ago.  It  is  not  a little  remarkable  that  a 
well  .should  at  all  be  found  here  Avhen  springs  are  so  abundant 
only  a mile  di.stant.  But  let  it  be  remembered  that  Jacob  Avas 
not  ahvays  on  friendly  terms  Avith  the  Shechemites,  and  that 
his  Avealth  and  growing  prosperity  secured  him  the  jealousy 
of  the  people  Avho  found  him  permanently  in  possession  of 


JACOB'S  WELL. 


431 


the  splendid  plain  of  Moreh,  and  we  can  see  why  the  people 
would  deny  him  and  his  flocks  access  to  the  fountains  and  past- 
urage of  Shccheni,  and  thus  comi)cl  him  to  prepare  this  well, 
though  near  abundant  springs.  It  is  the  visit  of  our  Lord  to 
this  spot  that  vests  it  with  such  tender  interest.  lie  was  going 
from  .Judea  to  Galilee.  This  place  is  on  the  highway  from 
Jerusalem  to  Capernaum,  so  he  came  near  “ the  city  of  Sama- 
ria, whicli  is  called  Sychar,  near  to  the  parcel  of  ground  that 
Jacob  gave  to  his  son  Joseph.”  John  says,  “Now  Jacob's  well 
was  there.  Jesus  therefore,  being  wearied  witli  liis  journey, 
sat  thus  on  the  well : and  it  was  about  the  sixth  hour.”  (.John 
iv.  6.)  Here  Jesus  met  the  woman  of  Samaria,  who  jjrobably 
lived  at  Sychar,  near  by,  while  the  disciples  were  gone  away 
to  buy  bread.  Nearly  fourteen  hundred  years  ago  a church 
stood  over  the  well, 'and  its  ruins  are  yet  visible  all  about.  I 
climbed  down  seven  or  eight  feet  through  the  broken  arch- 
covering and  sat  on  the  stone  wliich  forms  the  mouth  of  the 
well.  The  stone  is  about  four  by  five  feet  in  width  and  breadth 
and  eighteen  indies  thick,  with  an  orifice  about  two  feet  in 
diameter.  The  well  is  over  seven  feet  in  diameter  and  seventy 
feet  deep.  The  vaulting  covers  a chamber  nearly  twenty  feet 
long  and  ten  feet  wide,  the  floor  being  covered  with  fallen 
-stone.  When  Maundrell  visited  this  well  in  March,  A.  D. 
1697,  he  .states  that  it  was  one  hundred  and  five  feet  d(>ep  and 
had  fifteen  feet  of  water  in  it.  Ilebard  and  Hornes,  in  May, 
A.  D.  1S2S,  found  the  well  dry  but  about  the  same  depth  as 
stated  above.  In  A.  H.  1843,  Dr.  Wilson  found  it  seventy-five 
feet  deep.  M"hen  Conder  measured  it  in  1877,  he  found  it  the 
same  depth.  It  has  been  filled  up  thirty  or  forty  feet  by  stone 
and  dirt.  It  was  entirely  dry  when  we  visited  it. 

In  the  plains  below,  the  men  were  plowing  with  oxen.  There 
were  no  rude  Arabs  here  to  torment  us,  as  was  often  the  case^ 
where  we  so  much  coveted  to  be  alone.  We  were  sure  that 
we  were  at  the  very  spot  where  Je.sus  conversed  with  the 
woman  until  she  left  her  water-pot  and  went  hastily  into  the 
city  and  said  to  the  men,  “ Come  and  see  a man  which  told 
me  all  things  that  ever  I did:  is  not  this  the  Christ?”  How 


432 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


precious  the  "words  as  we  read  them  there  by  the  well,  “ Who- 
soever shall  drink  of  this  water  shall  thirst  again,  but  whoso- 
ever shall  drink  of  the  water  that  I shall  give  him  shall  never 
thirst;  but  the  water  that  I shall  give  him  shall  be  in  him  a 
Avell  of  Avater  springing  up  into  everlasting  life.”  Oh,  won- 
derful words  of  Jesus  uttered  here  ! Nor  have  they  lost  their 
value,  lie  stills  gives  the  Avater  of  life  to  the  thirsty;  and  so 
I jArayed,  “Give  me  this  Avater  that  I thirst  not.”  About  us 
AA'ere  the  same  scenes  upon  Avhich  Jesus  looked  as  he  uttered 
these  memorable  Avords.  Standing  beside  the  same  Avell  Avhere 
Jesus  sat,  our  company  Avith  reverent  attention  listened  to  the 
Avriter  as  he  read  the  thrilling  account  of  Christ's  conversa- 
tion Avith  the  Avoman  as  recorded  by  the  evangelist.  (John 
iv.  5-30.)  We  looked  upon  the  valley  of  Shechem,  up  which 
his  disciples  had  gone  to  buy  bread.  Our  eyes  rested  ujAOn 
“this  mountain  ” Gerizim  to  Avhich  the  Savior’s  eA’CS  folloAved 
the  gesture  of  the  Avoman  Avhen  she  asked  of  him  the  laAV- 
ful  place  of  Avorship,  and  to  Avhich  the  SaAuor  pointed  Avhen 
he  said  to  her,  “The  hour  cometh  Avhen  ye  shall  neither  in 
this  mountain,  nor  yet  at  Jerusalem,  AVorship  the  Father;” 
but  “the  true  Avorshipers  shall  Avorship  the  Father  in  spirit 
and  in  truth.”  (John  iA'.  23.)  Turning  our  faces  eastAvard, 
there  Avere  the  men  ploAving  in  the  same  “fields”  OA'er  Avhich 
Jesus  looked  Avhen  he  said  to  his  disciples,  “Say  not  ye.  There 
are  yet  four  months,  and  then  cometh  harvest ! ” and  from 
Avhich  he  lifted  their  souls  to  the  spiritual  realm,  exclaiming, 
“Lift  up  your  eyes,  and  look  on  the  fields;  for  they  are  Avhite 
already  to  harvest.”  (John  iv.  35.)  From  the  very  spot  Avhere 
Ave  Avere  standing,  Jesus,  entreated  by  the  people,  Avalked 
sloAvly  across  the  narrow  plain  to  the  city,  tliere  to  spend 
“tAVO  days”  in  teaching  the  Samaritans  the  Avay  of  eternal 
life.  IIoAV  I longed  to  knoAV  Avhere  he  abode  and  Avho  enter- 
tained him ! 

Half  a mile  distant  from  Jacob’s  well,  and  full  in  sight,  at 
the  base  of  Ebal  is  a little  group  of  mud-houses  composing  a 
village  called  Askar.  Its  rock-cut  tombs  and  other  features 
suggest  that  it  occupies  the  site  of  an  ancient  city.  And  here 


ASKAR. 


433 


no  doubt  was  the  “ city  of  Samaria,  which  is  called  Sychar,” 
a statement,  as  Conder  well  suggests,  not  likely  to  have  been 
made  of  a place  so  well  known  as  Shechem.  The  early  Chris- 
tians recognized  Sychar  as  a place  a mile  east  of  Shechem. 
The  modern  Askar  has  its  name  possibly  through  the  Samar- 
itan.s,  from  “Ischar,”  a vulgar  pronunciation  of  Sychar.  (See 
Tent -Work  in  Palestine,  Vol.  1.  page  41.) 

The  plain  of  Moreh,  called  Makhnah,  is  a fertile  valley 
about  seven  miles  long  from  north  to  south,  and  from  one  and 
a half  to  two  miles  wide.  Three  or  four  miles  below  .Jacob’s 
well,  in  the  plain,  is  the  village  Axcerta,  where  two  tombs  are 
shown  which  the  Samaritans  and  Mohammedans  hold  to  have 
been  the  site  of  the  graves  of  Eleazar  and  Phinehas.  (Joshua 
xxiv.  33.) 

We  turned  our  course  from  Jacob's  well,  jumped  our  horses 
over  the  broken-down  stone  wall  Which  incloses  a square 
twenty  or  thirty  yards  each  way,  took  the  last  look  at  Balata, 
which  probably  marks  the  place  of  the  .sacred  oak,  and  di- 
rected our  way  down  the  plain,  with  a view  of  reaching  Shi- 
loh. Doing  so  we  had  “passed  through  Samaria”  and  were 
now  in  Judea,  the  southern  division  of  the  land  in  the  time 
of  Christ.  With  every  step  of  the  way  I found  my  heart  more 
absorbed  in  the  land.  We  were  now  crossing  and  winding 
about  the  northern  hills  of  Judea,  and  by  the  same  route 
often  traveled  by  the  Savior,  and  were  climbing  over  the  same 
steeps  up  which  Paul  and  Barnabas  and  Titu.s,  with  others 
from  Antioch,  pa.^^sed  to  the  great  church-council  at  Jerusa- 
lem. Along  the  same  hill-side  where  we  rode,  once  and  for 
centuries  trod  the  tribes  of  Israel  as  they  Avent  up  to  Shiloh, 
there  to  Avorship  before  the  tabernacle  during  the  long  reign 
of  the  judges.  From  this  point  soutliAvard  to  .Jerusalem  the 
whole  country  is  croAvded  with  historic  associations.  Almost 
every  prominent  hill  in  this  land  of  Ephraim  and  Benjamin 
was  once  the  site  of  some  city  where  long  ago  lived  and  died 
some  Bible  hero,  or  Avhere  occurred  some  battle-scene,  the 
memory  of  which  bedecks  it  AA’ith  a mystic  charm  and  glory. 

28 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


Khan  Sawich  — Lebonah  — Shiloh  — Tabernacle  — Altar  of  Incense  — Ark 
of  the  Covenant  — High-Priest— Home  of  Samuel  — Eli  — Robbers’ 
Fountain — View  from  Bethel  — Mizpeh  — Bethel — View  of  Jerusalem 
— Events  at  Bethel  — Over  the  Quarantine  Mountains — Camp  at 
Jericho. 

Si^FTER  passing  out  of  the  plain  of  Moreh  and  cross- 
ly ing  over  hills  and  narrow  valleys,  we  lunched  at  an 
old  khan  called*  Khan  Sawich.  I shall  never  forget 
tlie  company  of  stout,  half-naked  women  and  children 
who  carried  water  for  our  lunch  and  to  our  horses.  Some 
' of  them  climbed  into  a great  oak,  Zaccheus-like,  to  get  a 
good  view  of  the  company,  and  there  sat  on  a limb  of  the 
tree,  doubtless  hungering  for  our  lunch.  Here  we  most  prob- 
ablv  cross  the  line  which  divided  Judea  from  Samaria.  Here 
and  there  are  well-watered  valleys,  but  the  country  is  exceed- 
inglv  mountainous.  The  ranges  and  peaks  are  much  higher 
than  in  other  pa  its  of  Palestine,  and  the  valleys  are  deep  and 
rockv.  Some  of  the  hills  I saw  were  finely  terraced  and 
thickly  set  with  olive-trees.  Men  were  engaged  in  plowing 
in  the  same  manner  as  described  on  page  330,  and  preparing 
the  ground  for  the  reception  of  seed.  The  olive-berries  were 
being  gathered  by  the  women  and  children,  who  were  singing 
some  coarse  songs  in  unmusical  strains.  We  visited  Lubben 
on  the  way,  an  old,  uninteresting  town,  which  doubtless  stands 
on  the  site  of  ancient  Lebonah.  (Judges  xxi.  19.)  Here  we 
turned  to  the  left  to  visit  the  secluded  and  for  ages  the  un- 
known site  of  ancient  Shiloh,  known  now  under  the  name  of 
Sfiilun.  We  rode  up  a rough,  narrow  valley  surrounded  by 
rocky  hills.  Whv  Joshua  established  his  head-quarters  here 

434 


SHILOH. 


485 


and  set  up  the  tabernacle  in  tliis  isolated  and  lununtainous 
place  I can  hardly  sec,  unless  he  did  so  from  tlie  fact  that 
he  wished  to  remain  within  the  inheritance  of  the  children 
of  Joseph,  to  which  by  d.escent  he  belonged.  But  in  turn- 
ing from  the  course  of  the  great  highway  to  visit  IShiloh,  one 
is  reminded  of  what  he  may  expect  from  reading  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  location  of  Siiiloli,  “ A place  which  is  on  the  north 
side  of  Bethel,  on  the  east  tide  of  tlie  higlnvay  that  goeth 


THE  TABEHNACLE  AT  SHILOH. 


ttp  from  Bethel  to  Shcchem,  and  on  the  south  of  Lebonah.” 
(Judges  xxi.  19.)  There  are  few  ruins  at  Shiloh,  and  what 
these  are  in  their  full  history  is  not  certainly  known.  The 
small  hill  on  which  Shiloh  once  stf»od  is  now  thickly  cov- 
ered with  hlack,  weather-beaten  ruins.  There  is  a narrow 
valley  running  around  the  hill,  which  is  itself  surrounded  by 
hills  which  tower  sev(>ral  hundred  feet  high.  At  the  southern 
slope  of  the  Shiloh  hill  are  the  stout  ruins  of  an  old  mosque. 


436 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


called  “The  Mosque  of  the  Servants  of  God.”  Its  ruined 
walls  are  shaded  by  a fine  massive  oak-tree.  On  the  north  of 
the  ruin-crowned  hill  is  a peculiar  plateau  or  scarp  cut  in  the 
rock  .so  as  to  make  a vast  level  spot.  At  places  the  cut  is 
five  or  six  feet  deep.  It  was  first  discovered  by  Captain  Wil- 
son, some  years 
ago.  It  is  the 
more  remarkable 
from  the  fact  that 
its  measurements 
at  once  suggest  it 
as  the  spot  where 
the  tabernacle 
once  stood.  It  is 
four  hundred  feet 
long  from  ('.Ht  to 
west  and  seven  ty- 
seven  feet  wide, 

— just  two  feet 
wider  than  the 
tabernacle  court. 

Its  length  would 
accommodate  the 
tabernacle  and 
court,  and  afford 
a level  place  in 
front  for  the  wor- 
shipers.  It  is 
doubtless  here 
that  the  taber- 
nacle stood  in 

its  honor  as  the  altar  of  incense. 

dwelling-place  of  the  Almighty  more  than  three  thou.s;ind 
years  ago;  and  here  the  tribes  went  up  to  worship  the  God  of 
Israel  who  had  brought  them  up  out  of  Egypt  many  centuries 
before  the  establi-shment  of  worship  at  Hebron  or  at  Jerusa- 
lem. The  reader  will  be  pleased  to  see  our  illustration  pre- 


437 


Y 

w 

r 


I 


TA  HKliyACLE. 


senting  the  tabernacle  with  the' court  surrounding  it.  In  the 
court  where  the  sacrifices  were  slain  were  the  altar  of  burnt- 
ofiering  directly  in  front  of  the  tabernacle,  which  faced  east- 


ward, and  the  brazen  laver  which  stood  between  the  altar  of 
burnt-offering  and  the  tabernacle.  The  tabernacle  was  divided 


438 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


into  two  parts,  the  Most  Holy  place  being  separated  from  the 
Holy  place  by  curtains.  In  the  eastern  part  or  entrance  on 
the  southern  side  or  to  tlie  left  sto  id  tlie  golden  candle-stick, 
to  the  north  or  right  tlie  table  of  shew-bread,  and  nearest  the 
curtain  inclosing  the  Most  Holy  place  stood  the  altar  of  in- 
cense for  the  burning  of  incense  before  the  Lord.  Within  the 
Most  Holy  place  there  Avas  only  the  ark  of  the  covenant  over- 
laid Avith  pure  gold,  on  the  lid  of  Avhich  Avere  the  cherubim, 
and  betAveen  Avhose  forms  Avas  the  mercy-seat.  In  this  ark  of 
the  covenant  Avere  “ the 
golden  pot  that  had  man- 
na, and  Aaron's  rod  that 
budded,  and  the  table  of 
covenant.”  (Exodus  xxv. 

10-22;  xl.  20;  Deuteron- 
omy X.  5;  xxxi.  26;  He- 
brews ix.  4.)  Into  this 
place,  the  holiest  of  all, 
only  the  high-jiriest  Avas 
permitted  to  enter,  and  he 
“alone  once  every  year, 
not  Avithout  blood,  Avhich 
he  offered  for  himself  and 
for  the  crrc  i’S  of  the  peo- 
ple.” (Hebre  ws  ix.  7 ; 

Exodfis  XXX.  10.)  This 
entrance  Avithin  the  A'cil 
must  be  also  Avith  a “ cen- 
ser full  of  burning  coals  of 
fire  from  off  the  altar  be- 
fore the  Lord,”  in  which 
censer  Avas  to  burn  sweet  incense  as  he  stood  before  the  ark 
of  the  Lord,  that  the  cloud  of  the  incense  should  cover  the 
mercy-seat.  (Leviticus  xvi.  12,  14.)  During  four  hundred 
years  this  holy  service  was  performed  at  Shiloh,  until  the 
Avicked  sons  of  Eli  carried  the  ark  of  God  to  battle  and  it  Avas 
taken  by  the  Philistines. 


HOME  OF  SAMUEL. 


439 


From  the  hill  on  which  stood  ancient  Shiloh  we  rode  south- 
ward a few  hundred  yards  across  the  valley  to  a peculiar  old 
ruin,  probably  an  ancient  synagogue,  afterward  converted  into 
a Christian  church  of  Byzantine  architecture,  and  afterward 
into  a Mohammedan  mosque.  It  is  built  of  solid  masonry, 
and  the  walls  on  the  outside  are  much  thicker  below  than 
above.  The  building  is  thirty-seven  feet  square.  The  great 
door  on  the  north  is  mounted  with  a heavy  lintel,  on  which 
are  vases  and  rosettes  carved  in  bold  relief.  From  earliest 
childhood  I have  been  accustomed  to  frequently  read  the  story 
of  little  Samuel,  brought  by  Hannah  to  old  Eli  to  have  his 
home  in  the  house  of  the  Lord.  (I.  Samuel  i.  24-28.)  Here  his 
feet  once  played  over  these  valleys  and  his  eyes  once  rested  on 
these  hills,  then  crowned  with  a beauty  and  glory  which  have 
long  ago  faded  away.  The  scene  rose  before  me  like  a picture 
which  I can  not  now  describe.  It  was  here  he  heard  the 
voice  of  God  calling  him  in  the  night,  saying,  “Samuel,  Sam- 
uel,” until  he  in  his  childish  innocence  went  to  Eli  and  asked 
for  what  he  had  called  him.  Here  Joshua  divid(“d  the  land  to 
the  tribes  of  Israel.  Here  old  Eli  died  of  sorrow  when  the  bat- 
tle had  gone  sore  against  tlie  army  of  Israel,  and  Phinehas  and 
Ho2>hni,  his  .«ons,  were  slain,  and  the  ark  of  God  was  carried 
away  by  the  Philistines.  (I.  Samuel  iv.  10-18.)  Old  Eli  “sat 
by  the  way-side”  doubtle.^s  leading  around  the  hill  through 
the  city  to  the  northern  part  of  the  town,  and  not  by  the  gate 
leading  into  the  city,  as  is  usually  suitposed.  Hence  he  “heard 
the  noise  of  the  crying  ” of  the  people  in  the  southern  part 
o^  the  town,  where  “the  man  of  Benjamin  ” first  gave  the  sor- 
rowful tidings  of  the  defeat  of  the  hosts  of  Israel. 

There  is  a very  interesting  and  striking  story  told  by  the 
author  of  Judges  of  a great  strait  to  which  the  men  of  the 
tribe  of  Benjamin  were  once  reduced  for  wives,  being  forbid- 
den, on  account  of  some  quarrel  among  the  tribes,  to  marry 
women  from  any  of  the  twelve  tribes.  Here  at  Shiloh  when 
the  daughters  of  the  city  went  out  to  dance  in  the  dances,  by 
agreement  of  the  authorities  the  men  of  Benjamin  were  hid- 
den in  the  vineyards,  and  every  man  came  out  and  caught 


440 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


himself  a wife,  and  then  returned  with  his  booty  to  his  own 
inheritance.  (.Judges  xxi.  16-24.)  Josephus  relates  that  this 
was  in  the  times  of  Phinehas.  The  valley,  where  once  gardens 
and  vinej’ards  were  cultivated,  is  now  poorly  farmed ; and 
the  barren  hills  all  about  present  a view  than  which  scarcely 
any  could  be  more  desolate.  Tlicre  are  now  no  daughters  of 
Shiloh  to  dance  in  the  gardens. 

The  sun  was  sinhing  over  the  hills  of  Judea  when  we 
turned  our  faces  southward,  with  the  hope  of  reaching  Bethel 
by  the  night.  On  our  right  and  left  were  great  mountain-like 
ridges  and  hills, — not  gray  or  chalky,  as  in  southern  Judea, 
but  glowing  with  a roseate  appearance.  Our  way  led  down 
narrow  lanes  and  rough  passes,  between  stone  walls  under  the 
shadow  of  lofty  hills,  terraced  to  the  tojr  and  overgrown  by 
olive-orchards  of  great  beauty  and  fruitfulness.  Women  were 
busy  thrashing  the  olives  down  and  then  picking  them  up, 
while  lazy  men  sat  around.  Pensons  on  the  hills  in  the  dis- 
tance were  following  their  rude  plows,  which  were  slowly 
drawn  by  small  oxen,  goaded  now  and  then  by  the  lazy  driver. 
The  way  proved  rough,  and  we  could  not  make  rapid  progress. 
Some  of  the  company  were  wearied  and  sick.  We  despaired 
of  reaching  Bethel  that  day  and  concluded  to  camp  for  the 
night  in  the  valley  of  Bobbers’  Fountain,  one  of  the  wildest 
and  most  romantic  places  I ever  saw. 

Long  before  the  morning  sun  could  smile  on  us  in  the  deep 
valley  of  the  Robbers’  Fountain  our  horses  stood  in  front  of  the 
camp;  and  as  our  men  were  pulling  up  the  stakes  and  taking 
down  the  tents  and  loading  all  upon  the  backs  of  the  mules 
and  donkeys  we  climbed  into  the  saddle.  By  half  past  nine 
o'clock  we  had  passed  down  the  deep  gorges  beside  great  hills 
of  stratified  rock  of  limestone  and  flint,  and  over  one  stony 
ridge  after  another,  and  .were  on  a high  hill  just  north  of 
Bethel.  From  this  i)lace  we  had  a magnificent  view  of  the 
land  upon  which  our  eyes  had  learned  to  look  with  ever- 
increasing  delight.  With  every  recurring  morning  the  interest 
of  our  journey  had  increased.  For  weeks  I had  thought 
of  the  time  when  I should  catch  the  first  view  of  the  bnly 


MIZPEH. 


441 


cit)’-  Jerusalem.  The  hills  about  us  were  covered  with  great 
square  limestones,  through,  around,  and  over  which  we  forced 
our  horses  on  to  the  highest  point.  What  an  enchanting  view 
greeted  us!  Far  over  the  hills  of  Judea  to  the  right  lay 
the  ancient  Mizpeh.  Five  miles  north-west  of  Jerusalem,  far 
up  on  a high  mountain,  four  hundred  feet  above  the  highest 
points,  is  the  holy  city,  and  more  than  three  thousand  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  sea.  The  Arabs  call  it  Neb]/  Samwil. 
It  was  there  that  Samuel  the  prophet,  three  thousand  years 
ago,  assembled  all  Israel,  commanding  them  to  put  away 
the  strange  gods  Baalim  and  Ashtaroth,  and  serve  the  Lord 
only.  There  Samuel  drew  water  and  poured  it  out  before  the 
Lord,  while  the  people  fasted  and  refused  to  drink.  There 
Samuel  “cried  unto  the  Lord”  and  offered  a lamb  as  a burnt- 
offering,  while  the  Philistines  assembled  for  war  in  the  valley 
below.  Out  of  the  mountain  and  the  clouds  which  hung 
about  it  the  Lord  thundered  that  day  with  a “great  thunder” 
upon  the  Philistines,  and  they  were  smitten  before  the  Lord 
and  before  Israel.  Yonder  below  Mizpeh,  Samuel  set  up  a 
stone  and  called  it  Eben-ezer  (to  this  place,  or  to  this  time, 
has  the  Lord  helped  us).  (I.  Samuel  vii.  12.)  There  Samuel 
made  his  regular  visits,  as  well  as  to  Gilgal  and  Bethel,  to 
judge  the  people.  (I.  Samuel  vii.  16.)  Turning  eastward  a 
little  way  we  came  to  the  place  where  once  stood  the  mighty 
Ai  (Joshua  vii.  2 and  xii.  9),  the  first  city  attacked  by  Joshua 
after  the  capture  of  Jericho.  Here  the  three  thousand,  elated 
with  the  triumph  of  Jericho,  flee  before  the  men  of  Ai,  and 
are  slain  because  of  the  sin  of  Achan  (Joshua  vii.  5)  until  the 
hearts  of  the  people  became  as  water  for  fear.  Just  south  of 
where  we  were  standing  lay  the  site  of  ancient  Bethel,  crown- 
ing a hill  similar  to  but  smaller  than  the  one  upon  which  the 
tabernacle  rested  at  Shiloh. 

As  we  stood  here  casting  our  eyes  over  all  the  vast  theater 
of  the  events  of  illustrious  centuries  I could  almost  see  the 
old  prophet  of  God — Elijah — coming  from  Gilgal,  clad  in  his 
goat-skin  mantle,  making  his  la.st  visit  to  the  schools  of  the 
prophets  here  at  Bethel  on  his  way  to  Jericho  and  the  Jordan, 


442 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


beyond  which  he  is  to  be  met  by  the  chariot  of  fire  from  the 
heavenly  country,  drawn  by  steeds  of  flame. 

But  what  city  is  that  far  over  the  hills  which  our  eyes  rest 
upon  right  over  Bethel ? Strange  we  have  not  seen  it  sooner! 
It  looks  as  though  it  were  only  three  or  four  miles  away.  We 
ask  softly  how  far  it  is — for  we  have  non-  fully  determined 
that  it  is  the  city  toward  which  our  thoughts  have  so  often 
turned  from  our  childhood.  It  is  the  city  the  name  of  which 
has  become  the  symbol  of  sacredness,  peace,  and  bliss  in  all 
quarters  of  the  globe.  In  poetry  and  sacred  and  hallowed 
thought  it  has  been  held  the  type  of  the  celestial  “ city  which 
hath  foundations,  whose  builder  and  maker  is  God.”  Our  eyes 
at  last,  at  a distance  of  ten  miles  away,  are  looking  at  the  holy 
city.  Behold ! that  is  Jerusalem.  !My  head  was  uncovered, 
and  emotions  of  wonder,  of  joy,  of  satisfaction,  of  delight, 
crowded  upon  the  bosom.  Two  hours’  ride  would  bring  us 
within  its  venerable  walls.  After  all,  this  distant  view  is 
unsatisfactory.  We  shall  come  nearer  to  the  city  by  and  by. 
Still,  its  elevation  and  beautiful  situation  even  at  this  dis- 
tance .struck  me  with  admiration.  Quite  beyond  it  are  the 
hills  of  Judea,  about  Bethlehem  and  toward  Hebron.  East- 
ward are  the  hills  about  the  plain  of  Jericho,  while  in  the 
distance  rise  full  in  sight  the  blue  mountains  of  Moab,  east  of 
the  Jordan  valley,  from  the  summit  of  which  Moses  surve^’ed 
the  promised  land.  They  appear  to  be  only  a dozen  miles 
away,  while  indeed  they  are  more  than  twice  that  distance. 
They  seem  to  slope  suddenly  down  to  the  Jordan  valley.  We 
are  at  Bethel,  and  must  not  forget  that  “ this  is  none  other 
but  the  house  of  God,  and  this  is  the  gate  of  heaven.”  (Gene- 
sis xxviii.  17.)  So,  at  least,  it  proved  to  Jacob,  three  thousand 
six  hundred  and  forty-three  years  ago,  when  he  came  up  this 
rocky  hill,  then  as  now  so  stony  that  during  the  night  he 
could  do  no  better  for  a pillow  to  place  under  his  weary  head 
than  to  choose  a hard  stone,  possibly  taken  from  the  rude 
altar  formerly  piled  up  by  his  grandfather  Abraham.  But 
even  we  may  learn  that  stones  under  our  head  in  life’s  night 
may  be  soft  indeed  if  they  but  hold  our  heads  while  heaven 
opens  and  the  angels  ascend  and  descend  before  us. 


BETHEL. 


443 


The  present  name  of  Bethel  is  Beitin.  Its  earliest  name  is 
Lnz,  by  Avhich  it  was  called  in  the  time  of  Abraham.  Bethel, 
next  to  Sheehem,  is  the  most  ancient  place  in  Palestine  men- 
tioned in  the  Bible.  Here  between  Ai  and  Bethel,  Abraham 
established  a holy  place  unto  the  Lord  (Genesis  xii.  8)  when 
he  first  came  into  Canaan.  No  doubt  he  camped  outside  of 
the  town  of  Luz,  and  hence  the  record  in  speaking  of  Jacob's 
coming  here  one  hundred  and  sixty  years  afterward  calls  it  a 
“/jfacc,”  and  a “certain  place,”  using  the  word  place  four  times 
in  the  chapter  containing  the  account.  (Genesis  xxxv.)  This 
doubtless  has  reference  to  the  sanctuary  or  Holy  place  where 
Abraham  had  built  an  altar  unto  the  Lord.  Here  Jacob  had 
his  glorious  night- vision  when  the  ladder  reached  from  the 
place  where  he  lay  to  the  heaven  far  away,  from  which  the 
angels  of  God  were  coming  down.  Here  he  rose  and  planted 
one  of  the  stones,  which  had  serv'ed  as  a pillow,  as  a pillar  be- 
fore the  Lord,  and  where  afterward  he  should  build  an  altar  to 
the  Lord.  More  than  a quarter  of  a century  afterward  .Jacob 
came  again  to  Luz  and  built  an  altar  unto  the  Lord,  and  called 
the  place  Bethel.  (Genesis  xxxv.  15.)  Here  also  the  Lord 
changed  Jacob’s  name  to  Israel.  (Genesis  xxxv.  10.)  Here 
below  the  town  they  buried  Deborah,  the  nurse  of  Rebekah, 
and  from  this  spot  Jacob  removed  his  camp  to  bury  Rachel  at 
his  next  encampment.  From  an  expression  in  the  history  of 
Samuel  (I.  Samuel  x.  3),  in  the  anointing  of  Saul,  it  seems 
probable  that  Samuel  not  only  visited  Bethel  to  judge  Israel, 
but  here  offered  sacrifices  to  the  Lord.  Here  long  afterward 
Jeroboam  set  up  a calf  of  gold  as  an  idol-god  for  the  adoration 
of  Israel.  (I.  Kings  xii.  29.)  Here  the  lone  prophet  of  God  met 
Jeroboam  beside  the  altar  over  which  the  extended  arm  of  the 
king  withered,  paralyzed,  and  dried  up  under  the  blighting 
curse  of  the  Almighty,  whose  altars  he  had  dishonored  and 
forsaken.  (I.  Kings  xiii.  4.)  To  this  place  came  the  good 
young  Josiah  to  break  down  the  altars  of  Baal;  and  here  at 
Bethel  he  burned  the  very  bones  of  the  priests  of  the  false  gods 
upon  their  altars.  (II.  Kings  xxiii.  16.)  Our  minds  stagger  at 
the  changes  and  conflicts  which  have  transpired  here  on  the 


444 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


grounds  over  which  we  gaze.  How  conflicting  and  how  un- 
timely wicked  many  of  the  years  and  actors  which  throw  their 
threads  through  the  ages  which  make  up  the  history  of  these 
hills ! 

The  prophet  declared  that  “ Bethel  shall  come  to  naught.” 
(Amos  V.  5).  And  how  literally  this  has  been  fulfilled.  There 
are  only  a few  ruins,  and  these  are  unworthy  of  mention  here, 
and  the  town  is  composed  of  rude  hovels  in  w'hich  perhaps 
four  or  five  hundred  people  live.  Stone  walls  surround  what 
might  seem  to  be  gardens  and  fields  sown,  but  for  the  fact 
that  they  are  little  more  than  great  beds  of  stone.  We  rode 
down  to  the  fountain  below  the  town  and  halted  for  a time 
and  examined  the  pool,  which  is  about  ten  feet  wide  and 
twelve  feet  long,  and  nearly  six  feet  deeji.  Below  the  pool  are 
traces  of  a large  reservoir  partly  cut  out  of  solid  rock,  with  a 
rock  bottom,  only  partly  exposed  to  sight.  This  pool  was 
originally  about  ten  feet  deep  and  three  hundred  and  seven- 
teen feet  by  two  hundred  and  fourteen  feet  in  length  and 
width.  The  people  in  Bethel  do  not  look  as  if  they  made 
much  use  of  the  pool  for  ablution,  being  really  filthy  and  dis- 
gusting in  appearance.  They  looked  at  our  company  with 
utter  amazement. 

From  Bethel  w’e  turned  our  course  toward  the  valley  of  the 
Jordan.  In  a few  moments  w'e  came  upon  an  eminence  a 
little  di.stance  east  of  Bethel,  from  which  we  had  our  first  view 
of  the  Dead  Sea  beyond  the  gray  hills  of  Judea  and  bedded 
low  dowm  in  the  Jordan  valley  at  the  foot  of  the  darker 
mountains  of  Moab.  Its  dark  bosom  lay  like  a cloudy  plain, 
nestled  far  down  below  the  hills  on  either  side,  while  a mist 
thinly  hung  over  it  like  a veil  of  cloud.  One  half  of  the 
Dead  Sea  is  vi.sible  from  the  knoll  close  to  Ai.  We  took  time 
to  examine  some  rock-cut  tombs  and  caves  and  cisterns  near 
the  town  Der  Diwan.  These  no  doubt  mark  the  site  of 
ancient  Ai.  Northward  from  the  towm,  across  the  valley  cor- 
responding with  the  Bible  record  (Joshua  viii.  11-14),  Joshua 
encamped  the  armies  of  Israel,  wdiile  he  set  five  thousand 
men  secretly  in  aml)ush  on  the  w'est  of  the  town,  toward 


OVER  THE  Q[\IRAXT1XE  MOUNTAIXS. 


445 


Bethel.  By  this  means  the  people  of  Ai  were  decoyed  to  fol- 
low the  retreating  arm}"  of  Israel  down  the  valley  toward  the 
Jordan,  while  those  in  ambush  took  and  destroyed  the  city. 
These  cisterns  and  caverns,  with  the  remarkable  correspond- 
ence of  the  place  to  the  Bible  description,  warrant  us  in 
believing  that  we  have  indeed  been  on  the  site  of  ancient  Ai, 
where,  for  the  sin  of  Achan,  Israel  first  suffered  defeat  after 
the  conquest  of  Jericho  (Joshua  vii.  1-5),  and  where  subse- 
quent victory  was  won,  as  before  related. 

Turning  from  Ai  toward  the  Jordan  valley  we  had  no  road 
to  travel  on;  but  o\"er  crooked  and  winding  paths,  over  high 
mountain-like  hills,  crossing  deep  valleys,  and  above  dreadful 
steeps,  hundreds  of  feet,  almost  perpendicular,  our  way  was 
followed.  Sometimes  the  steeps  were  so  precipitous  that  our 
fears  or  our  judgment  prevailed,  and  we  walked  and  led  our 
horses  for  a mile  or  more.  Sometimes  the  hills  about  us  were 
solid  limestone,  sometimes  flint  almost  to  agate,  and  then  they 
were  soft  and  white  like  chalk.  Often  we  turned  aside  to 
examine  the  great  cisterns  cut  deep  in  the  solid  rock. 

By  one  o’clock  we  began  to  descend  the  hills.  This  is  one 
of  the  wildest  and  most  desolate  portions  of  all  Palestine.  The 
hills  are  varied  in  form,  sometimes  foi»ming  in  ridges,  then 
conical  in  shape,  with  valleys  cut  deep  and  sharp  below. 
These  hills,  on  which  here  and  there  remained  a little  dead 
grass,  are  curved  around  with  paths  along  which  shepherds 
lead  their  flocks  of  sheep  and  goats.  Before  us  spread  out  the 
entire  valley  of  the  Jordan,  looking  like  a grayish,  chalky 
bed  of  earth,  cut  through  with  a deep,  winding  channel,  down 
which  flows  the  crooked  Jordan.  In  this  barren  and  desolate 
mountain-region  our  Lord  passed  that  indescribable  sorrow  of 
forty  days  and  nights  alone  in  fasting,  and  in  battle  with  the 
powers  of  darkness,  before  entering  upon  his  public  ministry. 
Can  it  be  that  here  in  this  dreary  and  barren  wilderness  of 
hills  and  rocks  our  loving  Lord,  solitary  and  alone,  girded 
upon  himself  that  eternal  endurance  of  love  and  suffering 
from  which  he  never  shrunk,  but  which  he  completed  in  his 
death  on  the  cross  and  his  triumph  over  death  and  his  ascen- 


446 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


sion  to  his  Father  and  our  Father?  It  was  a wild  and  daring 
and  yet  melancholy  introduction  to  a wonderful  life,  which 
from  the  first  to  the  last  surprises  us  more  and  more  at  every 
step.  But  over  these  heights  we  steadily  pursued  our  journe}', 
and  thus  a hard  day  wore  slowl}"  away.  Some  of  the  coni2)any 
murmured  somewhat  at  our  guide,  su^^posing  that  he  should 
have  led  us  by  a better  route.  Our  caravan  had  gone  directly 
from  the  valley  of  the  Robbers’  Fountain  “down  to  .Jericho.’-’ 
One  of  our  cooks,  who  was  enticed  from  our  caravan  to  fol- 
low some  wild  fowl,  lost  his  wa}',  and  s^icnt  tlie  niglit  in  the 
mountains.  In  the  mountains  of  temptation  I learned  to 
stick  close  to  the  divine  Ouide  in  tlu;  }>hice  and  time  of 
assault  from  the  tempter. 

The  shadows  of  the  mountains  were  stretching  across  the 
Jordan  valley  when  we  climbed  down  tlie  rocky  steei)s  and  at 
last,  in  the  evening  shadows,  found  our  way  along  the  gravelly 
beds  of  streams  of  water,  now  dry,  and  over  jJains  in  which 
were  Bedouin  camps  and  flocks.  In  an  hour  our  familiar 
tents  were  erected  on  the  site  of  ancient  Jericho,  of  Jo.shua’s 
time.  A comixiny  of  soldiers  from  Jerusalem  at  our  order  liad 
come  out  to  protect  us  from  thieves;  and  we  felt  sure  we 
should  i)ass  the  days  in  safety,  and  without  “falling  among 
thieves,”  as  one  did  of  olden  times  when  he  would  go  down 
to  Jericho. 

I spent  an  hour  examining  the  peculiar  mound  back  of  our 
camp,  and  in  taking  a bath  in  the  stream  flowing  from 
Elisha’s  Fountain.  I passed  the  evening  hour  with  many  a 
wondering  look  ui)on  the  mountains  of  IMoal),  eastward  be- 
yond the  Jordan,  and  many  a subdued  meditation  as  I gazed 
ui)on  the  Quarantine  mountain  half  a mile  west,  into  which 
Jesus  was  led  by  the  8j)irit  to  j)ass  those  forty  dreadful  days 
of  conflict  in  the  slojjcs  and  gorges  and  heights  and  barren 
peaks,  over  which  we  had  come  from  Bethel.  After  making 
my  accustomed  registers  for*the  day,  which  reminded  me  that 
it  was  thirty-seven  years  since  God  gave  me  a being  in  the 
world  (November  15,  1844),  thankful  and  wearied  I crept  into 
my  cot  and  fell  asleep. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


Valley  of  the  Jordan  — River  Jordan  — Plain  — Cities  of  the  Plain  — Jeri- 
cho— Elisha’s  Fountain  — Quarantine  Jlountain  — (lilgal  — Sodom 
and  Gomorrah — Dead  Sea  — Bethabara — Pilgrims  to  the  .Jordan. 


ITII  our  camp  at  .Jericho  we  had  tirranged  to  spend 
two  days  in  the  valley  of  the  -Iordan.  We  had  ([uit 
the  Jordan  valley  at  the  Sea  of  Galilee  to  visit  that 
section  of  country  lying  westward  toward  the  great  sea. 
The  Jordan  valley,  wliich  may  be  regarded  as  a contin- 
L nation  of  the  Cade-Syrian  valley  in  Syria,  is  one  of  the 
mo.st  remarkable  formations  on  the  globe.  The  Jordan  river, 
the  sources  of  which  have  been  de.scribed  on  ])age  342,  flows 
through  the  entire  valley  from  Banias  or  Caesarea  Philippi  to 
the  Dead  Sea.  From  Banias  to  Lake  Iluleh,  or  the  waters  of 
]\Ierom,  twelve  miles,  the  Jordan  falls  almost  one  thousand 
feet.  This  lake  is  four  miles  long,  and  from  its  southern  end 
to  the  northern  end  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee  is  a distance  of  ten 
and  one  half  miles.  From  Merom  to  the  Sea  of  Galilee  the 
fall  is  about  si.x  hundred  and  eighty-two  feet.  This  sea  is 
twelve  and  a half  miles  long,  and  from  its  southern  end  to  the 
Dead  Sea  is  a distance  of  ti.\ty-five  miles  in  a straight  line. 
Thus  the  total  length  of  the  Jordan,  including  the  lakes,  is 
one  hundred  and  four  miles.  From  its  rise  to  the  Sea  of  Galilee, 
which  is  six  hundred  and  eighty-two  feet  below  the  Mediter- 
ranean, the  fall  of  the  Jordan  is  over  sixty  feet  to  the  mile. 
The  Dead  Sea  is  six  hundred  and  ten  feet  lower  than  the  Sea 
of  Galilee,  and  one  thousand  two  hundred  and  ninety-two 
feet  below  the  sea-level,  so  that  in  the  Jordan,  from  the  Sea  of 
Galilee  to  the  Dead  Sea  there  is  a fall  of  .six  hundred  and  ten 

417 


448 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


feet  — an  average  of  oyer  nine  feet  fall  to  the  mile.  It  has 
but  four  perennial  tributaries  in  this  entire  course, — t\vo  on  the 
east  and  two  on  the  west  side.  Those  on  the  west  are  the 
Julud,  flowing  down  from  the  valley  of  Jezreel,  and  the  Farah 
coming  down  from  Ebal.  furnishing  the  “much  water”  of 
Enon  near  Salim,  where  John  was  baptizing.  Those  on  the 
east  are  Yarmuk,  about  six  miles  south  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee, 
and  Zerka,  the  ancient  river  Jabbok,  fartlier  south,  mentioned 
in  Genesis  xxxii.  22.  Besides  these,  there  are  many  winter 
streams  which  flow  down  in  the  rainy  season. 

The  valley  of  the  Jordan  varies  in  width  from  four  to  four- 
teen miles.  Above  iMerom  it  is  five  or  six  miles  wide.  Some 
places  below  the  Sea  of  Galilee  it  is  only  four  miles,  while  at 
one  place  for  a distance  of  almost  a dozen  miles  it  is  only 
about  three  miles  in  width,  with  the  Jordan  almost  entirely 
on  the  west.  The  plain  is  widest  opposite  ancient  Jericho. 
Here  it  is,  for  a distance  of  eight  miles  above  the  Dead  Sea, 
about  fourteen  miles  in  width. N It  is  a level  plain  coursed 
here  and  there  with  streams  of  water  from  the  western  hills, 
which  make  it  productive.  Our  tents  were  pitched  on  an 
elevation  which  doubtless  once  was  inclosed  b}^  the  walls  of 
the  Jericho  of  the  times  of  Joshua.  There  al'e  no  inhabitants 
of  this  ancient  city,  which  is  now  but  a mound  of  debris.  Xor 
does  the  traveler  expect  to  find  a remnant  of  a city  of  such 
ancient  times,  and  which  Joshua  declared  should  not  be 
rebuilt.  (Jo.shua  vi.  26.)  In  visiting  this  region  there  conies 
over  one  an  indescribable  feeling  of  disappointment.  He 
remembers  the  times  of  Abraham  and  Lot,  and  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  cities  of  the  plain.  He  thinks  of  the  pleading  of 
the  patriarch  for  the  sparing  of  the  city,  and  of  the  little 
procession  following  Lot  led  by  the  angel  out  of  Sodom. 
Then  there  rises  before  the  fancy  the  teeming  throngs  of 
Israel  here  led  into  Canaan,  and  their  camp  two  miles  away 
at  Gilgal,  and  the  long  line  of  events  which  connect  down 
to  the  times  of  Samuel  and  Saul.  He  remembers  the  visits 
of  Jesus  to  the  “City  of  Palm-trees,”  as  Jericho  was  once 
called.  But  all  these  events  have  left  no  traces  here.  The 


ELISHA ’S  FO  UNTAIN. 


449 


soa,  the  Jordan,  the  plain,  the  adjacent  mountains,  the  brook 
Cherith,  the  mountains  of  Moab  and  towering  Xebo  east  of 
the  Jordan,  all  correspond  precisely  with  the  Bible  record. 
But  we  look  in  vain  for  the  cities  of  history.  Sodom,  Gomor- 
rah, Zoar,  Jericho,  Gilgal, — where  are  they?  Everything 
about  us  as  we  lay  eamjjcd  at  Jericho  told  me  that  we  were 
walking  in  the  jJain  over  which  the  ancient  leader  of  Israel 
traveled,  where  Samuel  and  Saul  met  face  to  face,  and  where 
Jesus  himself  was  entertained  in  the  house  Zaccheus.  But 
of  all  that  was  living  here  in  those  ages,  naught  remains. 
The  entire  ruins  of  the  cities  of  the  plain  have  been  swept 
away  with  the  decay  of  ages,  while  only  the  site  of  .Jericho 
and  Gilgal  can  with  evident  certainty  be  looked  upon  by  the 
traveler. 

There  is  one  fountain  which  gurgles  up  as  in  ancient  time 
and  offers  the  traveler  its  refreshing  draught  as  it  did  nearly 
twenty-eight  centuries  ago.  It  flows  from  under  the  hill  on 
which  the  ancient  Jericho  of  Joshua's  time  was  built.  It  is 
to  this  day  called  Elisha's  Fountain.  It  gurgles  gently  out 
from  beneath  the  hill  and  flows  over  a beautiful  ])ebble  bot- 
tom into  a basin  of  hewed  stone  about  forty  feet  long  and 
twenty-five  feet  wide.  Small  fish  sport  in  this  ba.sin,  and 
birds  of  song  warble  and  make  music  in  the  thorny  bushes 
of  zizyphu^,  chrlsti,  and  balanite-^,  or  balsam  - tree,  and 

other  thick  underwood  which  grow  in  the  jilaiu  below.  This 
fountain  is  one  of  the  most  delightful  in  all  Palestine.  Tra- 
dition from  the  first  has  held  it,to  be  the  water  which  Elisha 
healed  with  a cruse  of  salt  while  he  remained  at  Jericho  soon 
after  the  ascension  of  Elijah.  The  situation  of  the  city  was 
pleasant  but  the  water  was  naught,  and  therefore  the  land  was 
barren.  But  Elisha  “went  forth  i;nto  the  spring  of  the  waters, 
and  cast  the  salt  in  there,  and  said.  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  I 
have  healed  these  waters.”  (II.  Kings  ii.  21.)  On  the  evening 
of  our  arrival  at  this  place  as  a few  of  our  company  were 
enjoying  the  cool,  fresh  water  of  Elisha’s  spring,  the  waters 
of  which  are  “healed  unto  this  day,  according  to  the  saying 
of  Elisha,”  an  old  man  came  down  with  two  goat-skin  bottles 

29 


4.50 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


and  a donkey  and  with  liis  washing.  He  went  into  the  pool  of 
w'ater  and  did  up  his  washing,  which  consisted  of  a Bedouin 
cloak  and  a gown.  After  giving  them  several  good  beatings 
with  stones  and  some  wringings  he  filled  his  goat-skins  with 
water  Avhere  he  had  been  washing,  put  them  on  his  little 
donke}’,  and  turned  aside  to  hunt  his  camp  some  distance 
away. 

Aucieirt  Jericho  was  situated  nearl}'  a mile  from  “the  mount- 
ain ” to  wdiich  the  spies  fled  Avhen  slieltered  and  directed  by 
Rahab.  (.Joshr;a  ii.  22.)  South  and  west  a mile  or  more  from 
Elisha’s  Fountain  are  some  of  the  ruins  of  the  aqueducts  and 
towers  of  the  Jericho  of  Christ’s  time,  while  over  two  miles 
south  and  east  of  the  ancient  Jericho  is  a miserable  village  of 
stone  and  mud  huts  known  as  modern  Jericho.  To  the  west 
only  a mile  away  from  the  site  of  ancient  Jericho  suddenly 
rise  the  Quarantine  mountains,  a thousand  feet  in  height. 
They  are  of  grayish  chalky  rocks,  and  the  entire  extent  of 
their  eastern  declivity  is  cut  thick  with  caves  and  dens  and 
tombs,  which  are  the  resort  of  hermits  and  wandering  Bedou- 
ins. Into  these  gray  mountain-heights,  forming  a perfect  wil- 
derness, Jesus  was  led  by  the  Spirit  to  the  scene  of  his 
temptation.  There  in  these  lone  mountains,  Avhich  must  have 
then  been  well-nigh  as  barren  as  now,  for  forty  days  and  forty 
nights  he  fought  that  lone  conilict  with  the  powers  of  hell, 
the  full  meaning  of  which  will  never  be  comprehended  by 
man  in  his  mortal  estate.  Over  this  plain  east  of  Jericho, 
Israel  first  sjjread  their  tents  Avhen  Joshua  led  the  people  of 
God  into  the  long-promised  land.  To  this  Jericho  where  we 
are  camped  came  the  sj)ies  from  east  of  the  Jordan  to  search 
out  the  country.  And  the  kindly  Rahab  lived  here,  who 
sheltered  these  tw'o  men  of  Israel,  covering  them  in  the  stalks 
of  flax  wdiich  she  had  laid  in  order  mion  the  roof.  While  the 
men  of  Jericho  searched  for  the  si>ics  and  pursued  their  way 
towuard  the  ford  of  the  Jordan,  the  si)ies  fled  to  the  mountains 
close  at  hand.  In  some  of  these  caves  cut  in  the  rocks,  in 
which  the  hermits  still  shelter,  they  dw’elt  three  days,  until 
the  search  for  them  was  over,  wdien  they  returned  to  Joshua. 


Q UARA^TiyE  MO  UN  TAIN. 


451 


Around  these  mounds  of  moldcring  ruins  once  stood  the 
Avails  Avhich  fell  doAvn  like  ashes  before  the  breath  of  God. 
The  priest  of  the  Lord  carried  the  ark  of  the  covenant  around 
the  Availed  and  doomed  city  once  each  day  for  si.x  days,  Avhile 
seven  priests  bleAv  with  their  trumpets.  The  armed  men  Avent 
before  the  triAinpeters  and  the  ark  of  the  covenant  folloAved 
after,  and  all  the  people  Avere  silent  until  the  seventh  day.  On 
the  seventh  daj'  they  encompassed  the  city  sev'en  times  in  the 
same  manner;  and  that  day  the  people  shouted  Avith  a great 
shout,  aud  “the  Avails  fell  doAvn  flat,  so  that  the  people  Avent 
ujA  into  the  city,  every  man  straight  before  him,  and  they 
took  the  city.”  But  the  “line  of  scarlet  thread”  Avith  Avhich 
Ilahab  had  let  doAvn  the  spies  over  the  Avail  through  the  Avin- 
doAV,  still  hung  in  the  AvindoAV  as  a memorial  of  her  kindly 
deeds,  and  she,  Avith  her  family,  alone  Avas  spared.  (Joshua  vi. 
12-27.)  Joshua  pronounced  a curse  upon  any  one  Avho  should 
ever  attempt  to  rebuild  the  eity.  This  curse  Avas  fulfilled  in 
the  time  of  Ahab,  aljout  five  hundred  and  fifty-six  years  after- 
AA’ard,  in  the  sorroAv  Avhich  came  to  the  house  of  Kiel  the 
Bethelite.  (I.  Kings  xvi.  34.)  Thus  the  city  of  splendor  and 
renown  is  a heap  of  ruins  until  this  da}'. 

Roman  Jericho,  upon  the  brook  Cherith,  Avas  a splendid 
city.  Around  it  Avere  the  groves  of  ])alms  and  gardens  of 
balsam.  Herod  adorned  it  Avith  royal  splendor;  and  here  he 
ended  his  earthly  career.  This  Jericho  Avas  often  visited  by 
the  feet  of  our  Savior.  Here  dAvelt  Zaccheus,  the  publican  of 
wealth  Avho  climbed  the  sycamore-tree,  the  branches  of  which 
stretched  OA’er  the  highwa}',  to  see  the  IMaster  as  he  passed  by. 
(Luke  xix.  1-10.)  Blind  Bartinifeus  once  sat  by  the  side  of 
one  of  the  thoroughfares  here  Avhen  Jesus  of  Nazareth  passed 
by  and  healed  him.  (Mark  x.  46.)  It  was  here  that  Christ 
uttered  that  Avonderful  parable  of  the  nobleman  who  delivered 
the  pounds  to  his  servants.  And  after  such  teachings  and 
after  the  sa\dng  of  Zaccheus  and  Bartimaeus  he  ascended  the 
mountains  toAvard  Jerusalem,  and  from  Bethany  made  his 
triumphal  entrance  into  the  city  of  the  great  King. 

Tavo  miles  directly  east  of  Jericho  is  the  site  of  ancient  Gil- 


452 


THE  HOLY  I. AND. 


gal.  Its  location  has  long  been  a matter  of  grave  doubt ; but 
the  more  recent  English  survey's  have  beyond  doubt  deter- 
mined upon  the  precise  site.  It  is  known  in  the  locality 
under  the  name  Jiljulieh.  It  is  .said  that  Israel  “encamped  in 
Gilgal,  in  the  east  border  of  Jericho”  (Joshua  iv.  19);  and 
this  agrees  precisely  with  the  site  fixed  upon  by  Lieutenant 
Conder.  The  native  Bedouins  know  the  jdace  under  the  name 
Shejeret  el  Ithleh, — the  tamarisk-tree, — on  account  of  a large 
tamarisk-tree  which  stands  close  to  the  ruins.  It  is  hardly  to 
be  supposed  that  any  considerable  ruin  of  tlie  cit}*  of  Joshua’s 
time  would  be  found,  and  yet  the  little  mounds,  of  wliich 
there  are  a dozen,  are  probably  remains  of  buildings  which 
once  composed  ancient  Gilgal.  The  remnants  of  an  old  pool 
exist  here.  It  is  called  Birket  Jiljulieh  — the  pool  of  Gilgal. 

The  location  of  the  cities  of  the  plain, — Sodom,  Gomorrah, 
Admail,  Zeboiim  and  Zoar,  which,  except  the  last  named, 
were  overthrown  by  Jehovah  in  the  day  that  “the  Lord 
rained  upon  Sodom  and  upon  Gomorrah  brimstone  and  fire 
from  the  Lord  out  of  heaven  ” (Genesis  xix.  24),  is  unknown 
to  man.  There  is  not  a trace  of  any  kind  to  direct  the  re- 
searcher to  the  place  of  awful  doom.  We  only  know  that 
they  were  “in  the  vale  of  Siddim,  which  is  the  Salt  Sea.” 
(Genesis  xiv.  3.)  In  what  part  of  the  valley  lying  about  the 
Dead  Sea  they  were,  we  might  venture  to  conjecture,  but  it 
would  be  nothing  more'  than  a guess.  Some  of  the  Jews, 
among  them  Josephus,  believed  that  these  doomed  cities  are 
buried  beneath  the  southern  part  of  the  Dead  Sea.  The  Mo- 
hammedans hold  this  tradition  and  call  it  La'ke  Asphaltites. 
Dr.  Thompson  believes  this  is  the  case,  and  that  the  well- 
watered  region  as  described  in  the  5Io.saic  account,  “like  the 
land  of  Egypt,  as  thou  comest  unto  Zoar”  (Genesis  xiii.  10), 
was  irrigated  by  the  si:)reading  out  of  the  lake  in  the  rainy 
season.  He  also  thinks  that  the  saltness  of  the  sea  dates  from 
this  destruction  period.  I can  see  little  more  than  a conject- 
ure in  this  theory.  God  alone  knows  where  these  cities  stood. 
As  I traversed  these  plains  my  eyes  often  turned  to  the 
mountains  east  of  the  Dead  Sea,  and  upon  the  tall  peak 


DEAD  SEA. 


453 


which  Moses,  the  meek  man  of  (iod,  ascended  to  look  from 
Nebo  over  all  the  land  from  the  south  even  to  Ilermon,  the 
land  into  which  Israel  sliould  enter  while  he  should  die  in  the 
mount  where  the.  Lord  would  bury  him,  and  his  soul  enter 
into  the  heavenly  Canaan  of  which  this  fair  land  was  only  a 
faint  type.  As  the  sun  slowly  crept  down  be}’ond  the  Quar- 
antine mountains  to  the  west  of  the  valley,  tliese  mountains 
of  Meal)  became  dressed  in  a garb  of  dark-inirple  hue,  wliich 
farther  southward  had  a soft,  light-purple  shade  which  deep- 
ened as  the  darkness  came  on,  and  ])resentcd  a shading  of 
mellow  beauty  such  as  is  seldom  beheld  anywhere  on  our 
globe. 

On  the  morning  of  November  16th  we  rose  early  for  a trip 
to  the  Dead  Sea.  Just  as  the  sun  was  rising  above  the  mount- 
ains of  ]\Ioah  we  were  in  the  .saddle.  The  rising  sun  pui’2)led 
the  mountains  and  the  clouds  to  a beautiful  pageant.  The 
air  was  cool  and  pleasant,  and  soon  the  sun  was  concealed 
behind  a cloud,  where  all  fondl}"  hoped  it  would  have  the 
kindness  to  remain  for  the  day.  This  earnest  wish  was  for 
the  most  part  realized ; for  greatly  to  our  comfort  we  saw  the 
sun  only  a few  times,  and  then  hut  for  a few  minutes,  until 
the  lu'ated  hours  of  noon  were  quite  ])ast.  On  oux  way  we 
Avere  guarded  by  three  soldiers,  wdio  delighted  to  show  their 
horsemanship.  Some  of  the  guards  remained  with  the  tents. 
Those  accompanying  us  delighted  to  galloii  back  and  forth  and 
make  a display  of  their  skill  in  riding,  as  Avell  the  fleetne.ss 
of  their  horses,  and  the  arms  they  carried.  They  wore  the 
heavy  Bedouin  cloak,  Avhile  their  heads  were  tied  up  in  a ker- 
chief of  silk  of  gay  colors  and  many  tassels.  Pas.sing  the 
modern  Jericho,  around  which  are  some  pretty  gardens  and 
orchards,  we  saw  great  flocks  of  goats  feeding  on  the  plains. 
Much  of  the  plain  is  overgrown  Avith  thorny  .shrubs.  Where 
it  is  Avatered  and  cultivated  it  is  very  productive.  The  water 
was  floAving  over  a number  of  farms,  and  the  neAvly-.soAvn 
grain  had  sprung  up  beautifully  and  covered  the  earth  with  a 
deep  green.  Here  Ave  saAv  the  thorny  Spina  Christi,  of  A'/hich  it 
is  said  the  croAvn  of  thorns  Avas  made  Avhich  Avas  put  upon  the 


454 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


head  of  Christ.  (Matthew  xxvii.  29.)  It  is  certainly  the  most 
prickly  and  thorny  growth  I ever  saw.  These  natives  cut  it 
and  pile  it  up  in  rows  about  their  gardens  for  fences.  Below 
Jericho  we  crossed  the  bed  of  the  brook  Cherith,  the  stream 
beside  which  Elijah  was  fed  by  the  ravens,  probably  farther 
up,  where  it  comes  out  of  the  deep  ravine  in  the  Quarantine 
mountains.  The  streaiji  was  entirely  dry,  though  the  bed 
shows  that  at  times  large  quantities  of  water  flow  down 
here.  This  bed  of  the  brook  is  doubtless  the  valley  of  Achor, 
Avhere  Achin  was  stoned  to  death.  (Joshua  vii.  26.)  All 
the  way  down  the  Dead  Sea  is  in  full  sight,  and  appeared 
from  the  first  to  be  only  a few  miles  away.  After  riding  an 
hour  it  seemed  quite  as  far  off  as  when  we  started.  We  found 
that  it  required  a ride  of  at  least  ten  miles  to  reach  the  sea. 

When  Avithin  tAvo  or  three  miles  of  the  Dead  Sea  the  land 
becomes  more  a Avaste  for  a mile  or  so,  Avhen  the  A'alley  be- 
comes absolutely  barren.  Even  the  thorns  can  not  groAV  here. 
Every  uoav  and  then  as  Ave  rode  on  .south-east  toAA'ard  the  sea 
Ave  suddenly  descended  from  ten  to  tAventy  feet  to  find  our- 
selves on  a loAver  plain.  This  continued  until  Ave  found  at 
last  that  AA'e  had  descended  hundreds  of  feet.  These  loAver 
plains  are  Avhitish  clay,  crusted  over  Avith  salt,  so  that  in  some 
places  the  crust  of  salt  seemed  almost  an  eighth  of  an  inch  in 
thickness.  Close  about  the  .sea  were  large  flocks  of  buzzards, 
I should  judge  tAvice  as  large  as  the  American  buzzard.  A 
haze  or  mist  hangs  over  the  sea,  so  that  one  can  not  see  clearly 
its  shores,  as  can  be  done  at  the  Sea  of  Galilee.  I haA'e  heard 
it  stated  that  no  living  thing  can  fly  over  this  sea  of  death  ; 
but  this  is  a mistake.  I saAV  a number  of  foAvls  flying  far  out 
OA'er  it,  some  small,  but  others  large-looking,  like  the  mud-hen. 

The  Dead  Sea  is  the  most  Avonderful  sea  in  the  Avorld.  Its 
bosom  is  clear  as  crystal,  though  constantly  fed  by  the  muddy 
Jordan.  It  is  one  thousand,  two  hundred  and  ninety-tAvo  feet 
below  the  level  of  the  INIediterranean  Sea.  It  is  forty-six 
miles  long,  and  at  the  broadest  place  ten  miles  wide.  Its 
greatest  depth  is  gi\'en  by  Lynch  at  one  thousand  three  hun- 
dred and  ten  feet,  and  its  mean  depth  at  one  thousand  and 


DEAD  SEA. 


455 


eighty  feet.  It  lies  two  thousand  four  hundred  and  ninety- 
four  feet  below  the  city  of  Jerusalem.  Its  depth  varies  a few 
feet  each  }'ear — Condcr  sa}’s  not  more  than  two  feet.  It  is 
calculated  that  six  million  tons  of  water  flow  into  it  daily. 
It  is  thirteen  per  cent  solid  salt.  It  is  not  po.s.sible  for  the  sea 
to  have  any  outlet;  and  though  shut  in  by  the  mountains  of 
Moab — the  grand  monumental  tomb  of  Moses — on  the  east 
and  the  steep  mountains  of  Judea  on  the  west,  with  the 
heavy  current  of  the  Jordan  and  many  other  streams  pouring 
into  it,  still  it  is  never  full.  How  this  small  sea,  only  forty- 
six  miles  long  and  ten  miles  wide  at  the  widest  point,  can 
evaporate  so  rapidly  is  a marvel  in  the  things  of  nature.  The 


THE  DEAD  SEA. 


lands  about  the  sea  are  barren  and  desolate ; but  the  gravel 
beach  and  calm,  clear  water,  scarcely  disturbed  by  a breeze, 
spread  out  a scene  of  beauty  before  our  eyes  which  one  can 
never  forget.  There  is  no  ship  or  boat  on  the  sea  in  which 
one  might  have  a sail  over  the  deep. 

Most  of  our  company  took  a bath  in  this  salt  sea.  I tied 
my  pony  to  a dead  branch  of  a tree,  which  had  doubtless  been 
washed  down  the  Jordan  and  drifted  to  the  shore,  and  ad- 
dressed myself  to  a bath  in  this  renowned  water.  I had  heard 
many  stories  about  the  saltness  of  the  water,  hut  could 
scarcely  believe  that  which  looked  so  clear  and  beautiful  could 


456 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


be  so  disagreeable.  My  first  effort  'vvas  to  take  a dive.  This 
I should  never  repeat.  The  effort  to  get  under  the  water  was 
a failure,  to  begin  with.  The  salty  fluid  got  into  my  ears, 
mouth,  nose,  and  eyes.  Oh ! it  seemed  as  if  it  would  surely 
put  my  eyes  out.  MTien  these  sensations  of  pain  were  over  I 
had  the  most  delightful  feelings.  The  Avater  seemed  soft  as 
oil.  In  it,  or  on  it,  I swam  and  floated  for  an  hour,  loath  at 
last  to  leave  it.  The  Avater  is  so  heavy  that  it  bears  the  body 
up  fully  one  fourth  ahoA'e  the  surface.  Thus  I could  not  sink, 
but  floated  like  a feather.  It  is  difficult  to  SAA'im  on  the  breast, 
because  of  the  feet  being  lifted  out  of  the  Avater;  but  turning 
the  body  on  the  back,  and  elevating  the  head  till  the  neck 
and  shoulders  are  above  the  Avater,  one  can  drive  himself  Avith 
great  speed.  I found  it  easy  to  sit  up  in  the  Avater;  and  the 
head,  neck,  and  shoulders  Avould  bo  entirely  above  the  surface. 
One  of  our  comj)any,  Avho  Avas  fond  of  novelty,  after  swimming 
a long  distance  fi'oni  the  shore  lighted  a pipe  and  actually 
took  a smoke  Avhile  SAvimming  about  in  the  Avater.  Upon 
coming  out  of  the  .sea  and  drying  the  body,  instead  of  experi- 
encing a burning  or  itching  from  the  saltness  of  the  Avater, 
my  skin  felt  soft  and  oily  as  if  a coat  of  oil  had  been  applied. 

Another  place,  of  still  greater  interest,  remained  to  be  A'is- 
ited.  In  history,  in  poetry,  and  in  song,  the  ri\'er  Jordan  is 
the  most  renoAvned  and  sacred  on  our  globe.  The  classic 
Rhine,  the  Avonderful  and  life-giving  Nile,  ancient  Tigris  and 
the  Eui)hrates,  which  are  as  old  as  the  garden  of  Eden,  and 
the  poetic  Tiber,  all  lose  their  sacredne.ss  in  the  mind  of  the 
traveler  as  he  approaches  the  banks  of  the  deep  and  rapid 
Jordan.  It  Avas  the  last  barrier  to  yield  to  the  triumphant 
tread  of  Israel  as  they  journeyed  toAvard  the  long-promised 
Canaan.  And  so  it  became  the  fitting  type  of  death,  the 
Avaters  of  Avhich,  as  in  a figure,  floAV  between  the  pilgrim  and 
his  long-sought  heaAmnly  home. 

A ride  of  an  hour  and  a half  from  the  Dead  Sea  across  the 
plain  brought  us  to  the  ford  of  the  Jordan  called  Bethabara, 
about  six  miles  from  Avhere  the  Jordan  empties  into  the  Dead 
Sea.  The  Avater  is  muddy,  caused  by  the  banks  through  Avhich 


CROSSINO  THE  JORDAN  AT  BETUABARA. 


458 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


it  flows  and  the  stream's  rapid  current.  At  the  ford  the  river 
is  about  one  hundred  feet  wide,  and  the  current  is  strong  and 
rapid.  There  are  three  beds  to  the  river  much  of  the  distance 
where  I examined  it.  These  have  their  own  peculiar  banks, 
cut  by  the  waters  when  at  different  heights.  We  rode  thought- 
fully along  through  a dense  forest  of  tamarisk,  silver-poplar, 
terebinth,  and  Avillows,  thickly  set  in  with  reeds  and  bushes 
of  various  kinds,  intercoursed  with  little  paths  made  by  wild 
boars,  when  suddenly  we  halted  on  a jiretty  sandy  beach ; and 
just  before  us  rolled  the  waters  of  the  Jordan.  The  entire 
banks  of  the  river  are  a jungle  of  trees  and  shrubs  and  reed, 
in  which  the  bulbuls,  nightingales,  and  turtle-doves  in  great 
numbers  find  a safe  retreat. 

At  the  first  I was  disaj)pointed  in  the  appearance  of  the 
Jordan.  I could  hardly  realize  that  it  was  indeed  the  Jordan 
of  the  Bible  I saw  flowing  before  me.  The  stream  was  smaller 
than  I had  always  supposed  it  to  be,  and  its  waters  were  more 
turbid  than  I had  thought.  Xo  one  would  think  of  spending 
a dav  at  the  Jordan  without  taking  a bath  in  its  renowned 
waters.  I found  the  water  disagreeably  cold,  and  its  muddy 
appearance  Avas  not  at  all  inviting;  yet  with  this  mudd}’  and 
cold  Avater  I tried  to  Avash  off  the  saltiness  left  from  the  bath 
in  the  Dead  Sea,  but  succeeded  only  in  part.  For  several  da3^s 
I felt  as  if  I had  taken  a hath  in  oil.  Some  of  our  company 
soon  SAvam  across  the  river;  hut  though  thej^  Averc  expert 
swimmers,  thev  Avere  rapidly  carried  doAvn  the  current,  and 
reached  the  Moah  shore  a great  distance  beloAV  the  ford.  I 
resolved  to  jAroceed  cautioush",  and  if  possible  wade  a«ross  the 
Jordan  to  the  Moah  side.  This  I succeeded  in  doing.  The 
Avater  came  about  half  Avay  up  mv  body,  and  I found  it  to  be 
extremelA*  difficult  to  hear  up  against  the  strong,  cold  current. 
Several  of  our  company  also  Avaded  across.  Upon  returning, 
I secured  the  assistance  of  one  of  the  compaiiA^  to  hold  me 
from  floating  doAvn  the  current.  When  in  the  middle  of 
the  river  I dived  entireh'  under  the  Avater,  and  as  a reward 
brought  home  some  very  pretty  pebbles,  thus  secured  “ out  of 
the  midst  of  Jordan,”  eA’eri  as  Joshua  commanded  “twelve 


PILGRIMS  TO  THE  JORDAN. 


459 


men”  to  take  up  “ out  of  the  place  where  the  priests’  feet  stood 
firm,  twelve  stones”  (Joshua  iv.  3),  which  were  planted  as  a 
memorial  unto  the  people.  Here,  also,  in  the  midst  of  the 
Jordan,  Joshua  planted  twelve  stones,  according  to  the  tribes 
of  Israel.  While  we  were  at  Bethabara  a company  of  Bedou- 
ins came  to  the  ford,  going  over  into  the  Moab  country.  They 
were  all  well  armed,  and  their  donkeys,  of  which  they  had 
about  thirty,  were  loaded  with  goods.  They  were  probably 
returning  from  Jerusalem  to  their  country  east  of  the  Jor- 
dan. One  lone  woman  in  the  company  was  seated  upon  a 
donkey  and  partly  carried  and  partly  floated  across,  attended 
by  half  a dozen  stout  Arabs.  All  the  company  soon  disrobed, 
tied  up  their  clothes  and  guns,  and  carried  them  across  the 
river  on  their  shoulders.  They  then  returned  and  removed 
the  loads  from  their  donkeys  and  carried  the  loads  across. 
Upon  their  I’eturn  it  seemed  that  they  would  proceed  to  carry 
the  donkeys  across  also;  but  this  they  did  not  do.  They  were 
perhaps  an  hour  driving  them  over,  the  water  washing  the 
smaller  ones  far  down  the  river.  On  the  other  side  they  loaded 
up  their  beasts  and  disappeared  beyond  the  bushy  tamarisk- 
forests. 

This  place  is  visited  by  thousands  of  European  pilgrims 
every  year.  The  time  chosen  is  Easter  Monday ; and  the 
Latin  and  Greek  pilgrims  to  the  Holy  Land  form  in  pro- 
cession at  Jerusalem  and  in  soleinn  order  visit  the  place, 
bathe  in  the  Jordan,  put  some  water  into  bottles,  with  which 
they  are  provided,  cut  them  a staff,  and  return  towartl  the 
holy  city.  They  camp  near  the  site  of  ancient  Gilgal  one 
night,  then  visit  the  sacred  place,  and  again  return  to  their 
place  of  bivouacing,  where  they  eat,  and  late  in  the  night 
silently  resume  their  journey  toward  Jerusalem.  Some  of 
them  bathe  in  the  Jordan  naked,  while  others  have  provided 
gowns  which  are  ever  afterward  preserved  sacred  for  their  bur- 
ial. The  Greek  and  Catholic  Easters  fortunately  do  not  occur 
at  the  same  time,  so  that  there  is  no  collision.  However,  here 
as  at  other  places,  their  dislike  to  each  other  is  manifested  in 
each  having  their  own  place  of  bathing.  It  is  said  that  as 


460 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


many  as  five  thousand  Greek  pilgrims  come  here  at  one  time, 
upon  a great  Easter  occasion. 

This  is  the  traditional  place  where  our  Lord  was  baptized  hy 
John  when  he  entered  u]>ou  his  public  ministry.  Of  the  cer- 
tainty of  this  tradition,  it  is  not  possible  to  speak.  Lieuten- 
ant Conder  argues  with  great  strength  against  the  tradition, 
holding  that  the  baptism  of  Chri.st  occurred  much  farther  up 
the  Jordan.  Ilis  princii)al  argument  against  this  place  is  its 
remoteness  from  Cana  of  Galilee,  where  Christ  was  the  third 
day  after  the  baptism.  (John  ii.  1.)  This  interpretation  allows 
no  place  for  the  temptation  in  the  chronology  of  events.  So, 
it  is  not  impossible  that  near  here  Jesus  was  bai)tized  of  John 
in  the  Jordan.  The  proximity  of  the  “wilderness  of  Judea,” 
and  Jerusalem,  from  which  the  people  went  out  to  John’s 
baptism,  strongly  sustains  this  tradition.  (Matthew  iii.  1,  5, 
13-17.) 

The  sun  was  sinking  down  toward  the  toj3  of  the  mountain 
of  temptation  across  the  valle}’'  which  lay  before  us  as  we 
turned  our  course  westward  toward  our  camp  at  Jericho. 
What  memoi'ies  cluster  about  these  surrounding  hills  and 
mountains.  What  foot-iu'ints  were  once  marked  in  the  sands 
of  this  vast  plain.  Here  Joshua  led  the  ])COple  of  Israel  into 
the  promised  land  after  the  forty  years’  wandering  in  the  wil- 
derness. Northward  from  this  place,  perhaps  a mile  or  more, 
God  piled  up  the  waters  of  the  Jordan  at  the  touch  of  the 
feet  of  the  priests  who  bore  the  ark  of  the  covenant.  A wide 
passage  was  thus  opened,  and  two  and  a half  millioirs  of  wan- 
derers passed  over  to  jiossess  this  goodly  land.  Before  them 
was  the  promise  of  God  and  the  presence  of  God  as  they  swej)t 
over  the  plain  of  Jericho  and  encamped  at  Gilgal.  Here  Eli- 
sha followed,  across  the  plain,  the  old  prophet  of  God  who 
wordd  go  beyond  the  .Iordan  to  meet  the  chariot  of  fire,  deter- 
mined that  his  master  should  not  escape  his  eye  till  the  very 
gate^of  heaven  shut  him  out  of  sight.  Here  the  Jordan,  the 
stream  long  held  as  the  symbol  of  death,  parted  asunder  when 
the  mantle  smote  it  and  the  two  went  over  on  the  other  side. 
From  some  elevation  east  in  these  hills  of  Moab,  Elijah 


RETROSPECTIVE. 


461 


stepped  into  the  chariot  of  tire,  and  went  up  through  the  path 
of  the  clouds  to  the  city  of  God.  The  same  old  mantle  in  the 
hands  of  Elisha  again  divided  the  Jordan,  and  the  lone 
])rophet  came  across  this  plain  to  Jericho  to  fight  the  battles 
of  God,  as  his  master  had  done,  under  the  power  of  the 
same  Spirit.  Nearly'  nine  hundred  years  later  the  Me.«siah 
came  down  from  Nazareth,  and  pressed  his  way  through  the 
crowds  which  thronged  to  the  baptism  of  John,  and  here 
was  recognized  as  the  “Lamb  of  God  which  taketh  away  the 
sin  of  the  world.”  And  coming  up  out  of  the  waters,  from 
these  same  skies  the  Spirit  of  God  like  a dove  descended  and 
lighted  upon  him.  And  across  this  plain  over  which  we  have 
been  wandering,  and  into  these  mountains  just  a mile  west  of 
our  camp,  he  was  led  by  the  Spirit  to  he  tempted  of  the  devil. 
What  walks  are  these  we  tread ! The  foot-prints  of  God  are 
here!  To  be  permitted  to  look  on  those  scenes  and  plains  and 
ruins  of  cities  and  gray  mountains,  and  to  rest  along  the 
banks  of  the  ‘Jordan  under  the  pleasant  tamarisk-shades,  all 
of  which  speak  to  the  heart  with  an  eloquence  divine  of  a 
history  so  illustrious  and  holy,  brought  a flood  of  joy  to  my 
soul  the  currents  of  which  shall  never  cease. 

As  the  sun  was  sinking  over  the  Quarantine  mountains  we 
rode  up  from  the  banks  of  the  Jordan  and  crossed  the  plain 
six  miles,  to  the  site  of  ancient  Gilgal,  before  described.  After 
a little  titiK'  spent  here  we  hastened  to  our  camp  at  Jericho. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


Leaving  Jericho — Thieves  — Brook  Cherith —Elijah  Fed  by  the  Ravens — 
Ravens — Wilderness  of  Judea  — The  Good  Samaritan  — Gazelles  — 
Apostles’ Fountain  — Stone  of  Rest  — Bethany — Tomb  of  Lazarus  — 
Clirist  at  Bethany  — View  of  Jerusalem  from  Olives  — Entering  the 
Holy  City. 


~^X  the  17th  of  November  we  quit  our  camp-life,  tvhich, 
to  say  the  least  of  it,  is  not  a thing  of  unmixed  com- 
fort. It  was  with  peculiar  pleasure  that  I arose  from 
Tiny  cot  with  the  assurance  that  during  the  remainder 
of  our  sojourn  in  Palestine  we  should  l^e  more  com- 
fortably quartered  in  hotels,  where  life  would  be  some- 
what akin  to  the  customs  of  Americans.  When  my  associates 
in  the  tent  awoke  in  the  morning,  I was  delivering  an  elo- 
quent and  afiectionate  farewell  address  to  my  narrow  bed  on 
the  ground.  I repeated  a short  valedictory  to  the  tent  Avhich 
had  sheltered  me  for  a number  of  weeks.  Before  evening  we 
hoped  to  enter  the  Holy  City,  to  which  for  weeks  we  had  been 
looking  with  ever-increasing  anxiety.  Our  horses  were  sad- 
dled and  brought  in  front  of  the  camp ; and  while  the  men 
were  taking  down  the  tents,  which  we  did  not  expect  to  see 
again,  we  climbed  into  the  saddle  and  filed  out  toward  the 
“wilderness  of  Judea,”  on  our  way  toward  Jerusalem. 

Our  camp  had  been  so  well  guarded  by  the  Arab  soldiers 
that  no  loss  through  thieves  had  been  sustained  by  any  of  our 
company.  We  had  escaped  the  fate  of  a “certain  man”  who, 
coming  hither,  “fell  among  thieves,”  who  wounded  him  sorely. 
We  had  the  greater  reminder  of  our  good  fortune  from  a cir- 
cumstance which  came  to  our  knowledge  just  as  we  were 
leaving  Jericho.  A woman  came  to  the  camp  in  great  distress. 

462 


BROOK  CHERITH. 


463 


She  called  u])on  our  guards,  kissed  their  hands,  and  proceeded 
to  tell  a pitiful  story.  The  previous  night  a band  of  thieves 
had  entered  the  village  where  she  lived  and  had  robbed  her 
house  or  tent,  carried  off  her  goods  and  donkey,  and  left  her 
in  pitiable  sorrow.  She  begged  that  the  soldiers  might  go  in 
search  of  her  goods.  Our  dragoman  and  com})anv  consented 
that  a part  of  the  men  who  were  engaged  to  attend  us  through 
the  pass  toward  Jerusalem  sliould  go  after  the  thieves,  and  if 
possible  recover  the  woman’s  goods  and  doukej".  And  so  we 
said  “good-by”  to  the  “city  of  palm-trees.”  Here  in  the 
])lains  about  Jericho,  however,  we  saw  but  one  solitary  palm. 
I do  not  believe  there  are  more.  A short  time  before  entering 
the  Wady  Kelt,  wliieh  leads  from  Jericho  to  Jerusalem,  we 
passed  the  Jericho  of  Christ’s  time,  to  which  we  have  al>ove 
referred.  Here  are  remnants  of  an  old  pool  and  ar|ueduets 
of  Roman  times.  Conder  thinks  he  discovered  the  I’emains 
of  five  aqueducts.  A little  farther  on  are  tlie  great  ruins  of 
towers  of  strength,  which  must  have  been  erected  as  forts  to 
protect  this  passage  toward  Jerusalem.  They  are  of  ancient 
times,  being  mentioned  by  the  writer’s  of  the  early  Christian 
centrrries.  Crossing  the  brook  Cherith,  which  comes  out  of 
the  great  wady,  we  found  the  road  winding  about  up  the 
wilde.st  and  yet  gloomiest  valley  seen  in  all  our  ti’avels. 
Sometimes  we  could  look  down  from  the  road  almost  per- 
pendicularly for  nearl}’  two  thou.sand  feet,  to  the  bed  of  the 
“brook  Cherith  that  is  before  Jordan,”  beside  which  doubtless 
the  old  Prophet  Elijah  was  fed  by  the  raveirs,  who  “brought 
him  bread  and  tlesh  in  the  morning,  and  bi’ead  and  flesh  in 
the  evening;  and  he  drank  of  the  brook.”  (I.  Kings  xvii.  6.) 

Here  the  reader  inquires  if  there  are  not  doubts  and  ques- 
tionings about  the  genuineness  of  these  traditions  as  to  the 
events  accredited  to  particular  places.  “ Is  it  really  so,  that 
this  is  the  place  where  Elijah  was  fed  by  the  ravens?”  Let 
it  be  answered  here,  that  there  are  not  a few  places  where  it 
would  be  extremely  desirable  to  brush  away  all  doubt.  Re- 
specting this  place,  many  have  held  that  the  Hebrew  “Che- 
rith” and  the  Arabic  “Kelt”  are  too  remote  from  each  other  to 


464 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


determine  anything.  Others,  and  Dr.  Robinson  among  the 
number,  assert  that  the  changes  necessary  to  make  the  words 
identical  are  often  made.  The  author  referred  to  is  disposed 
to  accept  this  valley  of  Kelt  as  the  Cherith  where  Elijah  was 
sheltered.  Others  have  sought  a place  farther  northward, 
mainly  to  find  a place  closer  to  Zarephath,  and  because  they 
suppose  it  improbable  that  Elijah  passed  through  the  domin- 
ion of  Ahab  to  reach  Cherith.  It  is,  however,  much  more 
likely  that  he  passed  through  the  country  to  reach  this 
secluded  place,  than  that  we  should  find  a place  near  the  cap- 
ital of  the  enraged  Jezebel  simply  to  avoid  the  necessity  of  the 
prophet  having  made  a few  days’  journey  from  Phoenicia.  It 
is  not,  however,  within  the  scope  of  these  pages  to  discuss 
the  merit  of  the  various  claims  of  particular  locations.  The 
author  has  taken  pains  to  look  at  the  most  reasonable  dis- 
cussions, and  aims  to  give  what  seems  most  rational,  and 
what  many  researchers  and  scholars,  though  not  all,  have 
supj)orted.  As  to  this  Cherith,  I find  it  quite  reasonable  to 
believe,  that  this  deep  gorge  and  those  breasts  of  tbe  Quaran- 
tine mountains,  honey-combed  with  caves  and  tombs  and 
chapels,  are  indeed  the  veritable  solitary  resting-place  of  the 
old  Tishbite  prophet  Avhen  God  supplied  him  food  by  the 
wings  of  the  ravens.  I saw  a number  of  these  noble  birds  in 
Palestine.  The  first  which  attracted  my  attention  was  Avhen 
we  were  ascending  the  Lebanon  mountains  in  Syria.  Quite  a 
number  of  these  ra  vens  hovered  over  us,  while  Ave  were  quite 
close  to  one  or  tAvo.  One  followed  us,  flying  above  us  for 
seA’eral  miles.  The  raA’en,  here,  is  a noble-looking  bird.  It 
closely  resembles  the  American  croAv,  though  its  neck  and 
head  are  more  neat ; but  it  is  three  times  as  large.  The  gen- 
tleness of  the  bird  in  thus  following  us  for  an  hour  reminded 
me  of  tbe  trying  eA^ent  in  the  life  of  Elijah,  the  prophet  of 
God,  in  tbe  time  of  tbe  great  drought  in  Israel.  This  Wady 
Kelt  has  its  head  near  the  road  leading  from  Jerusalem  to 
Bethel.  Near  the  road  from  Jericho  altog  which  we  passed 
the  rocks  are  cut  doAvn  almost  perpendicularly  for  hundreds 
of  feet,  the  valley  being  often  not  over  one  hundred  feet  wide. 
We  were  almost  two  thousand  feet  direct!}'  above  it. 


WILDERNESS  OF  JUDEA. 


465 


Thus  we  began  to  ascend  the  hill,  which  is  very  steep.  Al- 
though the  road  is  quite  wide  enough  for  vehicles  to  pass  over 
it,  this  could  not  be  from  the  fact  that  the  ascent  of  the  hill  at 
many  places  is  in  steps  almost  a foot  in  height.  To  our  right 
all  along  the  deep  wady  into  which  we  look  down,  the  mount- 
ain rises  abruptly.  The  mountains  are  grayish  in  color,  and  a 
great  number  of  caverns  and  tombs  are  cut  in  the  solid  rock. 
These  come  down  close  to  the  edge  of  the  brook.  Some  priests 
■were  preparing  a road  from  the  main  highway  down  a steep 
hill  to  the  brook,  so  that  the  Russian  pilgrims  might  go  down 
and  see  the  sacred  place. 

The  way  through  this  “wilderness  of  Judea”  would  be  ex- 
ceedingly diflicult  and  laborious  were  it  not  for  the  great 
improvement  made  in  the  road  a few  years  ago  by  the  contri- 
bution of  a French  lady  for  that  purpose.  She  came  out  here 
on  a vi.sit,  and  experiencing  how  difficult  it  was  to  go  down 
from  Jerusalem  to  Jericho,  gave  the  handsome  sum  of  twenty- 
five  thousand  dollars  to  the  imj)rovemeiit  of  this  road.  At 
many  places  along  the  way  are  to  be  seen  remains  of  the  old 
Roman  aqueduct  and  the  Roman  highway.  The  mountains 
about  us  are  of  a grayish  stone,  barren  and  dc'solate,  and  must 
always  have  been  so.  A more  desolate  and  barren  country 
could  hardly  be  imagined  than  this  “ Wilderness  of  Judea.” 
It  was  along  this  Avay  that  Christ  located  the  occurrence 
which  is  mentioned  in  the  parable  of  the  “Good  Samar- 
itan.” (Luke  X.  30-37.)  Remembering  that  this  region  has 
always  been  the  fitting  habitation  of  mountaineers  and  ma- 
rauders, and  looking  ujM'n  these  barren  and  desolate  hills 
and  deeply-cut  wadies,  it  is  no  wonder  that  the  Savior  chose 
such  a place  for  the  location  of  an  incident  which  shadows 
forth  for  the  world  a new  social  law.  Whoever  passes  up 
this  ■way  over  which  “a  certain  man  went  down  from  Jeru- 
salem to  Jericho,”  will  experience  a sense  of  the  probability 
that  the  narrative  related  by  Jesus  to  the  “lawyer”  was  even 
more  than  a “ parable.”  Tradition  has  long  since  located 
this  event  at  a desolate  point  about  half  way  from  Jericho 
to  Jerusalem.  What  particular  jjlace  was  in  the  mind  of 

30 


466 


THE  HOLY  LAHD. 


Christ,  or  where  the  events  forming  the  basis  of  the  parable 
occurred,  no  one  can  tell.  The  traditional  site  is  on  a kind 
of  ridge  somewhat  elevated,  between  two  valleys.  Close  to 
the  road  are  the  ruins  of  an  old  khan,  and  a perpendicular 
overhangiitg  rock,  beneath  which  is  a shallow  cavern,  which 
is  a resting-2>lace  for  travelers,  even  as  the  ‘‘  shadow  of  a great 
rock  in  a weary  land.”  Near  the  old  khan  are  the  ruins  of 
two  large  cisterns,  one  of  which  has  fallen  entirely  into  decav. 
Far  up  on  the  mountain,  north-east,  are  the  ruins  of  a forti- 
lication,  surrounded  by  a moat  cut  in  the  solid  rock.  It  was 
once  a defense  of  this  jiass  to  the  Jordan  valley.  After  riding 
about  fifteen  miles  through  this  rough  and  desolate  region, 
over  one  hill  after  another,  and  winding  down  and  up  through 
one  wady  after  another,  we  came  into  lands  which  are  culti- 
vable. Here  a few  fleet-footed  and  beautifully  formed  gazelles 
.scamj)ered  acwoss  the  fields  which  were  becoming  green  with 
grain  and  grass,  to  the  rocky  hills  beyond.  Passing  uj)  the 
Wady  el  Hod,  with  steej)  hills  on  eitlu'r  side,  we  halted  at 
a splendid  fountain  gushing  up  on  the  left  of  the  road.  For 
the  last  four  hundred  years  it  has  been  called  the  “ A po-^tle-s’ 
S{)ring,”  from  the  sui>position  that  the  apostles  Avith  their 
illustrious  Lord  often  sto])2>ed  hen'  and  drank  from  the  jiearly 
fountain.  This  fountain  is  believed  to  be  the  “Avaters  of 
En-shemesh,”  marking  the  soutln  rn  Ixuindary  of  Benjamin. 
(.Joshua  XV.  7).  The  road  must  haA’e  ahvays  been  along 
this  valley;  and  doubtless  it  Avas  here  that  “Shimei  AAent 
along  on  the  hill’s  side  over  against”  David  and  cursed 
him  as  he  fled  from  Jerusalem  and  his  rebellious  son.  (IT. 
Samuel  xvi.  13.)  This  stream  is  doubtless  the  “brook  of 
water”  over  Avhich  the  woman  told  the  servants  of  Absalom, 
Ahimaaz  and  Jonathan,  had  gone.  (II.  Samuel  xvii.  20.)  We 
Avere  noAV  only  a feAv  miles  from  the  holy  city.  The  “mount- 
ains Avhich  are  round  about  Jerusalem”  lifted  their  forms 
before  the  eye.  Just  before  us  Avere  the  ridges  and  spurs  of 
the  eastern  side  of  the  mount  of  Olives.  We  turned  aside 
to  the  spring,  over  which  a comparatively  modern  work  of 
masonry  has  been  constructed  consisting  of  a heavy  Avail  of 


STONE  OF  REST. 


467 


(Irossed  stone  with  an  arch  over  the  fountain.  Here  we  re- 
freshed ourselves  at  the  “ Apostles’  Spring.”  The  water  was 
refreshing  and  was  received  with  grateful  lips.  As  one  exam- 
ines carefully  the  topography  of  the  country  and  the  way 
over  the  mount  of  Olives,  he  soon  is  assured  beyond  a doubt 
that  he  is  here,  indeed,  not  at  the  mouth  of  a well  at  which 
.lesus  sat  when  it  was  “ deep  ” and  he  had  nothing  with  which 
to  draw,  but  at  a gurgling,  pearly  fountain  beside  which  the 
Savior  and  his  disciples  must  often  have  refreshed  themselves 
as  they  went  up  to  Jerusalem  from  Jericho.  Near  the  fount- 
ain is  an  old  khan  where  we  halted  for  an  hour  for  a little 
rest  and  to  take  lunch.  The  sun  stood  in  full  strength  over 
the  slopes  of  Olivet,  and  the  hills  about  us  seemed  beautiful 
in  their  mellow  majest)’,  contrasted  with  the  barren  wilder- 
ness of  mountains  over  wdiich  we  had  passed  trom  .Jericho.  A 
spirit  of  expectancy  crept  over  my  anxious  heart.  Mounting- 
our  horses,  we  turned  somewhat  abruptly  to  tlie  right  and 
began  to  climb  up  the  winding  road  on  the  eastern  spur  of 
the  mount  of  Olives.  Every  step  of  the  way  was  made  tenfold 
more  sacred  bv  the  thouglit  that  we  w(“rc  on  tin*  same  path  up 
which  the  weary  feet  of  .lesus  ascemled  again  and  again,  and 
that  we  were  to  enter  Bethany  by  the  same-  ]iath  over  which 
he  pas.'^ed  that  last  time  l)efore  he  was  crucified  at  Jeru.salem. 

After  following  the  winding  way  up  the  steeps  of  Olivet  for 
about  a mile,  we  pausi'd  for  a little  rest  on  a small  plateau 
less  than  half  a mile  distant  from  Bethany,  where  our  drago- 
man pointed  out  a stone  about  three  feet  long  lying  by  the 
way  and  said,  “ This  is  the  stone  of  rest.”  I knew  the  tradi- 
tion, but  asked  him  to  explain  what  he  meant  by  the  “ stone 
of  I’est.”  He  looked  at  me  with  evident  surprise  and  said, 
“ Here  on  this  stone  our  Savior  sat  when  Martha  came  out  to 
meet  him  when  Lazarus  was  dead.”  Here,  as  often  before,  I 
felt  mv  senses  indisposed  to  believe  tradition  respecting  spe- 
cial localities.  Possibly  this  was  not  the  stone  on  which  Jesus 
sat.  It  was  indeed  hardly  probable.  Still,  it  was  with  pecul- 
iar reverence  that  I alighted  from  the  saddle  and  found  my- 
self inclined  to  sit  upon  the  same  stone.  Doubtless  it  was 


4G8 


THE  HOLY  LAXD. 


somewhere  near  this  spot  on  this  hill  that  Martha  met  Jesus 
as  he  was  coming,  with  that  pathetic  appeal  which  must  have 
penetrated  the  depths  of  his  tender  heart,  “ Lord,  if  thou 
hadst  been  here,  my  brother  had  not  died.”  (John  xi.  20,  21.) 
I remembered  that  when  she  who  loved  to  sit  at  the  feet  of 
Jesus  “aro.se  quickly,  and  came  unto  him,”  that  “Jesus  was 
not  yet  come  into  the  town,  but  was  in  that  place  where 
Martha  met  him.”  So,  as  I rested  a few  moments,  that  tender 
scene  of  the  meeting  of  Jesus  and  Martha  and  Mary  crowded 
iq)on  my  imagination.  Did  you  ever  know  a father  who  came 
home,  after  a long  absence,  to  l>e  met  at  the  gate  by  a loving 
wife  who  broke  to  him  the  awful  message  that  their  darling 
child  had  died  during  his  long  ab.sence  and  that  she  had  been 
compelled  to  bury  it  alone?  Did  you  ever  stand  beside  a dear 
friend  in  the  house  of  the  dead,  while  she  met  a brother  who 
came  home  after  many  days’  travel  only  in  time  to  look  upon 
the  pale  dead  face  of  a brother  who  had  passed  the  mysterj" 
and  pain  of  death  ? "What  a meeting  of  brother  and  sister's 
hearts  as  they  stood  in  the  chamber  where  their  dead  fellow 
lay  humbled  in  death.  Such  scenes  as  these  which  I had 
too  often  witnessed  came  rushing  to  memory  and  intensi- 
fied the  vivid  concc-ption  of  that  scene  when  these  two  sisters 
fell  at  the  Savior’s  feet  here  outside  of  Bethan\’  and  poured 
out  their  grief.  “ It  is  too  lute,  too  late.  Oh,  why  did  you 
not  come  sooner.  Lord,  if  thou  hadst  been  here  our  brother 
had  not  died.”  How  deeply  the  scene  interested  me.  I re- 
membered that  in  a far-off  native  land  I had  a dear  brother 
laid  in  the  grave.  As  I thought  of  him,  his  love,  his  hope, 
and  then  again  of  a darling  little  girl  laid  away  to  sleep  in 
the  grave,  how  my  poor  heart  wanted  to  tell  Jesus  its  bitter 
sorrow.  What  would  he  say  ? Quickly  I drew  from  my  side 
the  Holy  Book,  and  turning  to  the  eleventh  chapter  of  John 
I read,  “ Thy  brother  shall  rise  again.”  Farther  on  I read,  “ I 
am  the  resurrection  and  the  life ; he  that  believeth  in  me, 
though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live ; and  whosoever  liveth 
and  believeth  in  me  shall  never  die.”  Forgetting  the  “ stone 
of  rest,”  I had  found  as  never  before  a Rock  upon  which  to 


BETHANY. 


469 


place  my  trembling  feet,  even  iii  the  hours  of  sorrow  and  the 
waters  of  death.  Lifting  up  my  eyes  there  stood  the  village 
of  Bethany,  with  the  history  of  which  there  are  connected  so 
many  tender  memories  of  the  life  of  our  Lord  Jesus. 

A score  of  rude  Arab  children  swarmed  around  our  com- 
pany before  we  got  to  the  town,  and  they  were  determined  to 
have  barkshish.  My  dream  of  quiet  meditation  at  the  sacred 
places  of  the  town,  the  very  name  of  which  is  the  synon^-m 
of  tenderness  and  love  and  rest,  was  banished  by  these  pests 
who  pursued  us. 

Bethany  is  not  known  in  Old  Testament  history.  Xow  it 
is  called  by  the  natives  El  Azariyeh,  — after  the  name  Lazarus. 
From  the  time  of  Helena,  the  mother  of  Constantine,  the 
sacred  sites  of  Bethany  were  marked  by  buildings,  the  bare 
ruins  of  which  now  remain.  It  has  now  a small  population 
of  fanatical  ^Moslem  people  who  shelter  in  perhaps  forty 
houses  or  huts.  The  huts  have  low  stone  walls  and  flat  roofs, 
and  present  a rude  a}>pearance.  Bethany  stands  on  a sj)ur  of 
the  mount  of  Olives,  a mile  east  of  the  summit,  south-east  of 
the  highest  point  on  which  the  church  and  mosque  stand. 

Through  Bethau}'  the  natives  followed  us  with  a zeal  which 
surely  is  to  be  commended.  Here  are  pointed  out  the  sites  of 
the  home  of  Lazarus  and  his  two  sisters,  and  the  tomb  of  the 
dead  brother  whom  Christ  restored  to  life.  Amid  the  abomi- 
nable annoyances  we  were  compelled  to  suffer  here  these 
places  were  visited. 

The  reputed  tomb  of  Lazarus  is  reached  by  descending 
about  twenty-five  stone  steps  down  a dark  passage  opening 
into  a subterranean  chapel,  which  is  probably  nearly  fifteen 
feet  below  the  level  of  the  street.  From  this  chapel  I crept 
down  over  three  great  steps  cut  in  the  rock,  each  three  or  four 
feet  deep,  into  a grotto  cut  deep  into  the  solid  rock.  This 
grotto  is  not  over  six  feet  square.  Here  tradition  asserts  is 
the  “cave”  where  they  had  “laid  him”  whom  Jesus  loved. 
There  are,  however,  few  writers  who  are  inclined  to  regard  this 
as  the  place  where  Lazarus  was  really  buried.  Modern  trav- 
elers prefer  to  find  the  tomb  in  the  south  or  south-east  part 


470 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


of  the  town  in  some  of  tlie  places  which  they  consider  more 
suitable  to  the  narrative.  The  more  1 investigated  the  claims 
of  this  site,  and  real  objections  to  the  plausibilit}'  of  the  tra- 
dition, the  more  that  single  utterance  of  John,  “It  was  a 
cave,’’  inclined  me  to  believe  this  to  be  the  veritable  place. 
It  is  evident  from  this  utterance  of  the  evangelist  that  the 
]»la(!C  of  the  burial  oI  Lazarus  was  not  an  ordinary  tomb  cut 
in  tlie  rocks,  but  a deeper  cave  in  the  earth.  As  I now  think 
of  it,  I can  not  divest  my  heart  of  the  conviction  tliat  I was 
in  the  very  same  grave  where  Lazarus  lay,  and  from  which 
Jesus  called  him  back  from  the  dead.  Less  than  fifty  yards 
east  is  the  traditional  site  of  the  house  of  this  family  of 
Bethany,  which  Jesus  loved.  (.John  xi.  5.)  Conjectures  re- 
specting the  location  about  which  we  must  always  be  in 
some  doubt  need  not  be  indulged.  Sure  it  is  that  this  is 
Bethany.  It  stood  close  to  the  borders  of  the  wilderness  of 
Judea,  and  probably  was  never  much  of  a town.  Yet  it  was 
here  that  Jesus,  weary  of  the  toils  of  the  day,  often  came 
over  Olivet  from  Jerusalem  to  find  a place  and  hour  of 
rest  with  tlie  family  he  loved.  It  was  here  in  the  home  of 
Mary  and  Martha  and  Lazarus  that  Jesus  showed  most  of  the 
human  sympathy  of  his  heart,  and  revealed  to  us  how  his 
lonely  nature  and  life  were  affected  by  and  drawn  to  the 
shelter  of  an  earthly  home,  from  which  he  borrowed  a few 
restful  hours.  He  had  a nature  deep  and  ])rofound,  which 
was  mightily  touched  by  the  tenderness  of  the  child  and  the 
deep  love  of  woman  and  the  bleeding  pangs  of  sorrow.  It  is 
here  at  Bethany  that  Jesus  in  frequent  events  of  his  life 
reveals  the  fathomless  human  side  of  his  great  soul.  The 
events  occurring  at  Bethany  are  familiar  to  every  reader,  and 
each  recalls  them  for  himself.  Bethany  and  Olivet  stand  ever 
hathed  in  the  holy  tears  of  the  Son  of  Cod.  Twice  we  look 
upon  a weeping  Jesus.  “Jesus  wept”  (John  xi.  35)  as  he 
stood  beside  the  tomb  of  Lazarus  as  he  lay  in  the  bonds  of 
death,  until  the  Jews  exclaimed,  “Behold  how  he  loved  him!” 
Go  thence  a little  way  westward  to  the  top  of  Olivet  and  see 
the  Savior  on  another  day.  As  he  stood  there  before  Jerusa- 


CHRIST  AT  BKTHANY. 


471 


lem,  “he  beheld  the  city,  and  \ve])t  over  it."  (Luke  xi.x:.  41.) 
Here  a whole  life-time  comment  is  put  upon  the  character  of 
Jesus,  as  we  read  it  in  two  words,  the  Bible’s  shortest  verse, 
beside  the  tomb  of  the  dead  brother  of  Mary  and  Martha. 
Even  the  Jews  were  constrained  to  say,  “Could  not  this  man, 
which  opened  the  eyes  of  the  blind,  have  caused  that  even 
this  man  should  not  have  died.”  That  voice  of  Jesus  in  its 
piercing  tones  which  invaded  the  dark  dominion  of  Death, 
“ Lazarus,  come  forth  ! ” went  ringing  down  to  the  gates  of 
hell,  and  conies  to  us  echoing  over  the  mist-covered  mountains 
of  the  ages,  and  will  re-echo  on  through  eternity ; for,  “ he 
that  was  dead  came  forth,  bound  hand  and  foot  with  grave- 
clothes.”  But  the  Master  of  Death  said  unto  them,  “ Loose 
him,  and  let  him  go.”  Here,  in  these  oumiiiotent  displays  of 
Jesus’  loving  power  over  Death,  lies  the  hope  of  our  own  sad 
hearts  for  the  eternal  years.  Along  the  rude  streets  of  this 
little  town  Mary  and  Martha  walked  with  hearts  lifted  out  of 
deepest  sorrow  in  a joy  which  was  like  a dream,  while  they 
held  fast  to  their  brother,  who  had  “been  dead  four  days,”  but 
was  alive  again,  lest  he  should  escape  from  their  sight.  It 
was  here  that  the  people  of  the  village  made  Jesus  his  last 
reception-supper  in  the  house  of  l^imon,  at  which  iMary  and 
Martha  were  jiresent,  with  their  brother  Lazarus,  whom  he 
had  raised  from  the  dead,  and  whom  the  Jews  sought  to  put 
to  death  b(‘cau.«e  through  him  many  of  the  jieople  believed  on 
the  Lord.  Yonder,  along  the  slope  or  brow  of  the  ridge  lead- 
ing out  from  the  mount  of  Olives,  Jesus  walked  at  the  head  of 
his  disciples  until  just  on  the  hill  at  the  edge  of  Bethany,  “he 
lifted  up  his  hands  and  blessed  them,”  and  was  “parted  from 
them,’’  being  received  into  a bright  cloud  “and  carried  up  into 
heaven.”  (Luke  xxiv.  50,  51.)  Oh,  marvelous  ])ath  of  God 
where  thv  footstep'  still  in  memory  and  love  remain!  From 
this  hallowed  spot  the  pathway  of  the  shining  heavens  opened 
to  the  brighter  chariot-cloud  of  glory  which  bore  our  ascend- 
ing Lord  beyond  the  range  of  mortal  sight  where  the  eternal 
holds  its  sway. 

We  reached  the  summit  of  the  mount  of  Olives  from  Beth- 


472 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


any  by  a road  following  around  the  brow  of  the  hill,  while 
directly  to  the  left  lay  one  of  the  deepest  wadies  seen  in  Pales- 
tine. We  took  the  direct  road  toward  Jerusalem  with  a view' 
of  taking  our  first  view  of  tlie  holy  city  from  the  highest  point 
of  Olivet,  where  the  view  would  be  the  most  delightful. 


It  was  past  two  o'clock  when  we  stood  on  the  summit  of 
Olivet  and  looked  dowm  its  slopes  over  the  trees  of  olive, 
carob,  and  walnut  which  make  the  mountain-side  look  like 
some  old  deserted  and  broken-dowm  orchard,  upon  Gethsemane 


VIEW  FROM  OLIVET. 


473 


at  the  foot  b}'  the  vale  of  the  Kedron.  Beyond  the  valley  our 
eyes  rested  upon  Mount  Zion,  the  city  of  the  great  King. 
There  is  not  in  this  wide  world  a scene  upon  which  the  pil- 
grim to  the  palace  of  God  looks  with  such  subdued  reverence 
as  upon  that  which  lay  before  us.  There  before  my  eyes,  a 
• mile  away,  lay  Jerusalem,  surrounded  by  its  massive  walls. 
True,  tlie  temple  was  not  there,  for  its  place  isoceujned  by  the 
Mosque  of  Omar.  The  jialaees  of  the  king  have  lieen  de- 
stroyed and  wasted.  Still,  there  before  us  ivas  the  same  valley 
of  the  Kedron,  and  beyond  it  rising  to  the  walls  of  the  city 
was  Moriali,  the  slopes  of  whicli  are  whitened  with  Moliam- 
medan  tombs.  Beyond  Moriah,  covered  with  the  memories 
of  thousands  of  years,  with  the  ascending  smoke  of  .Jewisli 
sacrifice,  rose  Mount  Zion,  upon  which  David  and  Solomon 
once  lived  in  their  glory.  True,  this  is  not  the  Jerusalem  of 
Solomon’s  time,  nor  yet  the  Jerusalem  upon  which  the  eyes 
of  the  Savior  rested  when  he  stood  on  this  same  mountain ; 
but  even  now  the  view  is  the  same,  and  the  cit}’  of  to-da}^  is 
not  Avholly  unlike  the  former  .Jerusalem.  The  same  “ mount- 
ains are  round  about  .h  ru-alem.”  The  eye  is  greeted  by  the 
same  valleys,  though  less  dcseji  on  either  side,  and  by  the  same 
j)Ools  and  fountains,  and  rock-cut  toomhs  that  were  beheld  by 
the  Savior.  I was  not  willing  to  allow  my  own  raptured  heart 
and  mind  to  be  drawn  into  controversy  about  the  precise  loca- 
tion of  events  or  the  possible  changes  in  the  locality  of  the 
walls  of  the  city.  I had  come  to  Jerusalem  not  only  that  my 
eyes  sliould  “see  the  city  of  our  God  in  the  mountain  of  his 
holiness,”  and  behold  Mount  Zion,  “beautiful  for  situation, 
the  joy  of  the  whole  earth,”  nor  alone  that  my  feet  should 
“walk  about  Zion,”  nor  that  I should  “mark  well  her  bulwarks 
and  consider  her  palaces,”  but  I had  come  that  my  heart  might 
be  taught  of  God  as  I stood  where  he  in  olden  times  spoke  face 
to  face  with  man.  I had  come  to  Olivet  that  Jesus  might  lift 
up  his  hands  above  me  and  bless  me,  and  that  I might  hear 
the  Redeemer  speak  with  a new  tongue.  Would  he  not  make 
some  deeper  spiritual  revelation  of  himself  to  my  poor  heart 
in  the  silence  of  its  meditation  ? Does  he  who  yearned  over 


474 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


this  city  und  who  would  have  gathered  the  people  even  as  a 
hen  gathereth  her  brood  under  her  wings,  not  love  us  still  ? 
What  scenes  come  to  the  mind  as  one  stands  on  the  summit  of 
Olivet!  Looking  eastward,  there  is  the  “wilderness  of  Judea,” 
toward  Jericho,  the  place  whither  our  Lord  was  “led  by  the 
Spirit  to  be  tempted  by  the  devil.”  Beyond  it  nestles  the  Dead 
Sea  in  its  bed  deep  down  in  the  Jordan  valley.  A little  way 
along  an  eastern  spur  of  the  mountain  is  Bethany,  surrounded 
by  figs  and  olives,  through  which  we  have  come,  with  all  its 
hallowed  memories  of  Lazarus,  of  careful  and  troubled  Martha, 
and  Mary,  who  sat  at  Jesus’  feet.  From  that  little  village  the 
message  was  carried  to  the  God-man,  “ Lord,  behold,  he  whom 
thou  lovest  is  sick.”  Turning  the  face  southward,  along  the 
more  southern  brow  of  Olivet,  the  eye  rests  upon  the  road 
over  whic  I Jesus  passed  in  his  triumphant  entrance  to  Jeru- 
salem, when  the  throngs  cried,  “ Hosanna  to  the  Son  of  David  : 
Blessed  is  he  that  cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord ; Hosanna 
in  the  highest.”  (Matthew  xxi.  9.)  Below  the  mountain,  in 
the  valley  of  the  Kedron,  lay  the  garden  of  Gethsemane,  the 
scene  of  that  awful  night  of  our  Lord’s  bitter,  bloody  sorrow, 
and  his  midnight  betrayal  and  arrest.  Then,  what  memories 
of  the  “city  of  the  great  King!”  Up  tho.«e  steeps  and  along 
those  streets  the  “Man  of  sorrows”  bore  tlic  burden  of  his 
toil  and  the  weight  of  his  heavy  cross,  while  yonder,  at  the 
place  called  Calvary,  “they  crucified  him,  and  the  malefac- 
tors, one  on  tlie  right  hand,  and  the  other  on  the  left.”  Yon- 
der out  St.  Stephen's  Gate  passed  the  risen  Lord  with  his 
disciples,  they  following  him  again  up  this  steep  mount  of 
Olives,  passing,  perchance,  close  where  we  are  standing,  until 
he  had  “led  them  out  as  far  as  to  Bethany.”  Down  this  same 
road  which  we  chose,  being  the  most  direct  to  the  city,  “the 
disciples  returned  to  Jerusalem  with  great  joy,  and  were  con- 
tinually in  the  temple  praising  and  blessing  God.”  Amid 
memories  such  as  these,  and  such  others  as  I can  not  describe, 
more  than  an  hour  passed  too  quickly  away  as  I sat  on  the 
summit  of  Olivet.  Then  we  rode  slowly  and  thoughtfully 
down  the  steep  descenl,  stopping  now  and  again  under  the 


DAMASCUS  GATE. 


475 


shade  of  an  old  olive-tree,  and  pasting  by  broken-down  stone 
terraces,  until  we  reached  the  edge  of  the  narrow  valley  of 
the  Kedron  and  entered  the  sacred  seclusions  of  the  garden  of 
Gethseinane.  When  an  hour  had  been  passed  in  this  sorrowful 
place,  to  which  I shall  ask  the  reader  to  return  at  another 
time,  I climbed  into  the  saddle,  rode  across  tlie  little  valley, 
crossed  the  stone  bridge,  which  with  a single  arch  s])ans  the 
Kedron,  and  slowly  rode  along  beside  the  great  grave-yard  on 
the  east  of  the  city,  then  turned  around  the  north-east  corner 
of  the  city  wall  and  rode  westward  to  the  Damascus  gate. 


Here  we  pa.ssed  the  most  elegant  entrance  to  the  city  now 
in  use,  it  being  the  great  thoroughfare  for  the  traveler  going  to 
or  from  Shechem  and  Damascus  and  all  the  northern  country. 


476 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


It  is  situated  in  a valley  considerably  lower  than  the  grounds 
along  the  wall  farther  east  and  west.  Our  illustration  gives  a 
fine  view  of  this  splendid  gate,  with  its  pointed  arch  and  mas- 
sive towers  which  stand  one  on  each  side  for  the  protection  of 
this  entrance  to  the  city.  Here  we  entered  the  Holy  City,  and 
riding  down  the  deep  descent  flr.st,  then  gradually  ascending 
Damascus  Street,  alighted  in  front  of  the  Damascus  Hotel. 
We  passed  up  a number  of  steps  through  a small  door  in  the 
wall,  and  found  ourselves  in  a stone-paved  court,  surrounded 
with  heavy  walls  and  narrow  chambers.  Ascending  another 
flight  of  stejis  we  were  in  a large  upper  court,  from  which  we 
had  a splendid  view  of  much  of  the  city  and  of  the  mount  of 
Olives,  while  about  us  wc-re  pleasant  rooms  where  our  com- 
pany were  domiciled  greatly  to  their  comfort  compared  with 
the  tents  from  which  we  had  parted  at  .Jericho.  I was  not  a 
little  disappointed  in  my  first  entrance  to  the  city.  The  sight 
from  the  summit  of  the  mount  of  Olives  was  the  most  de- 
lightful and  enrapturing  my  eyes  had  ever  beheld.  The  deep 
mellow  shades  of  Gethsemane,  with  its  walks  and  roses  and 
olives  and  flowers  of  varied  hues,  had  subdued  my  heart. 
The  massive  walls  of  the  city,  excelling  all  I had  anywhere 
seen,  had  overawed  me.  But  the  narrow,  unclean,  crooked 
streets,  with  the  little  Arab  shops  beside  them,  and  the  poorly, 
curiously  clad,  dirty  inhabitants  somehow  disgusted  me.  Still, 
this  is  what  there  is  to-day  of  Jerusalem,  and  I was  glad  even 
to  be  di.spleased  with  the  sorrowful,  if  I might  be  blessed  by 
the  memory  of  the  illustrious  and  holy. 


CHAPTER-  XX. 


The  Holy  Oity  — Historyof  Jerusalem  — Origin  of  its  Name  — Location  — 
Size  — Population — Moriah  — Zion  — Valley  of  Kedron  — Valley  of 
Hinnom — Plan  of  Jerusalem — Tyropeon  Valley — Stone  City — A'^iew 
in  Jerusalem  — House-top  — Present  Condition  of  Jerusalem. 

GLUMES  tvould  not  be  sufficient  to  record  the  history 
of  Jerusalem,  nor  many  years  long  enough  to  explore 
all  that  its  dust,  and  stones,  and  streets,  and  pools, 
^ and  mountains  contain  of  the  long  and  illustrious  ages 
/ j>ast.  It  is  not  within  the  purpose  of  this  unpretending 
volume  to  try  to  explain  its  profounder  secrets,  but 
rather  to  “ walk  round  about  Jerusalem,”  and  “tell  the  towers 
thereof”  Yet  it  may  be  well  to  pause  in  our  journey  and 
scan  a few  pages  on  which  are  condensd  a brief  history  of  the 
struggles  of  the  city  of  the  great  King. 

The  early  histor}^  of  Jerusalem,  as  also  the  origin  of  the 
name,  is  in  great  obscurity.  It  is  with  plausibility  supposed 
that  this  is  the  ancient  Salem  where  Melchizedek,  king  and 
priest,  resided  in  the  time  of  .Abraham.  (Genesis  xiv.  18.) 
If  this  be  true,  which  is  probable,  its  name  may  have  origi- 
nated by  a combination  of  the  name  Salem  with  Jebusi,  under 
which  it  was  known  more  than  four  hundred  years  after  the 
days  of  Abraham.  (.Joshua  xviii.  28.)  The  combination  Je- 
bus  and  Salem  would  readily  be  made  by  the  euphonious 
change  of  “6”  to  “r.”  In  the  early  possess?ion  of  the  land, 
the  tribe  of  Judah  dwelt  at  Jerusalem  with  the  Jebusites. 
(Joshua  XV.  63.) 

One  fifth  of  the  reign  of  David  had  passed  at  Hebron,  when 
he  captured  the  “stronghold  of  Zion,”  nearly  ten  hundred 

477 


478 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


and  fifty  years  before  Christ,  and  built  on  it  the  fort,  and 
called  it  the  “ City  of  David.”  (II.  Samuel  v.  9.)  The  city 
was  then  confined  alone  to  Mount  Zion.  Solomon  built  the 
temple,  across  the  valley  of  the  Cheese-mongers,  upon  “ Mount 
Moriah,  where  the  Lord  appeared  unto  David  his  father,  in 
the  place  that  David  had  jirepared  in  the  thrashing-floor  of 
Oman,  the  Jebusite.”.  (II.  Chronicles  iii.  1.)  This  mountain 
is  about  one  hundred  feet  lower  than  Mount  Zion.  The 
plateau  con.structed  by  Solomon  for  the  temple  remains  to 
this  day,  and  we  shall  be  greatly  interested  in  visiting  it. 
He  also  built  “ the  walls  of  Jerusalem  round  about.”  (I. 
Kings  iii.  1.)  The  names  “Zion,”  and  “City  of  David,”  are 
sometimes  in  the  Old  Testament  applied  to  the  entire  city  of 
Jerusalem.  The  location  of  tlie  city  has  varied  somewhat 
since  the  days  of  Solomon,  and  even  since  the  days  of  Christ. 
We  found  traces  of  the  city  wall  far  south  of  the  present  wall 
at  the  southern  end  of  Ophal.  The  ancient  city  included  the 
hill  .south  of  the  j)resent  walls,  and  also  westward  toward  the 
pools  of  Gihon  down  the  slopes  of  the  hill.  If  Jerusalem  rose 
in  grandeur  under  the  dominion  of  Solomon  so  as  to  become 
the  admiration  of  the  queen  of  Sheha,  it  soon  was  viewed  by 
neighboring  kingdoms  with  a jealous  eye.  The  son  of  Solo- 
mon, in  whose  reign  the  kingdom  was  divided,  was  yet  reign- 
ing over  Judah,  when  Shishak,  king  of  Egypt,  partially 
robbed  the  city  and  temple  of  their  glory.  Another  century 
had  not  passed  when,  in  the  reign  of  Jehoram,  the  Phil- 
istines and  Arabian  tribes  again  jdundered  the  holy  tem- 
ple. Xor  little  more  than  half  a century  passed  again  when 
Jehoash,  king  of  Israel,  fought  against  Amaziah  and  broke 
down  the  city  wall,  jdundered  the  temple  which  Jehoash 
of  Judah  had  repaired,  and  robbed  the  palace,  and  carried 
ofl'  the  .spoils  of  gold.  The  succeeding  King  Uzziah  reigned 
over  half  a century  and  restored  the  glory  of  the  Holy  City, 
and  strengthened  its  towers  of  defense.  Ilezekiah,  like  a 
wise  and  good  king,  arranged  the  great  system  of  water-sup- 
ply for  the  city  by  constructing  ])ools  and  connecting  aque- 
ducts, while  his  idolatrous  son  Manasseh  enlarged  the  city  by 


and  set  up  an  idol  in  tiie  Temple  of  the  Lord.  (II.  Chroni- 
cles xxxiii.  6,  7.)  A little  more  than  half  a century  later 
when  the  good  king  .losiah  was  dead,  under  the  reign  of  -le- 
hoiachin  and  that  of  Zedekiah,  who  “ did  evil  in  the  sight  of 
the  Lord,” 'X(!buclindnezzar,  king  of  Babylon,  took  “all  the 


HISTORY  OF  JERUSALEM.  479 

extending  the  walls  southward  and  westward  so  as  to  include 
the  southern  projection  of  Zion.  This  follow('d  his  imprison- 
ment and  humiliation  in  Babylon,  and  was  something  of  a 
reparation  for  the  shameful  idolatry  in  which  he  caused  his 
children  to  pass  througli  the  lire  in  the  valley  of  Ilinnom, 


POOL  OF  SILOAM,  LOOKTN’O  TOWARD  JERTJS.ALEM. 


480 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


treasures  of  the  house  of  the  Lord  ” and  carried  them  to  his 
own  proud  city.  This  was  soon  followed  by  the  further  sad 
destruction  of  the  house  of  God  by  fire,  and  the  slaying  of  tlie 
inhabitants  of  Jerusalem.  Half  a hundred  years  later  Nehe- 
miah  superintended  the  rebuilding  of  the  temple  and  the 
wasted  walls  of  the  city  amid  the  mournful  memories  of  the 
past. 

The  history  of  the  Holy  City  was  a varied  one  for  the  fol- 
lowing six  hundred  years.  As  the  time  for  the  fulfillment  of 
prophecy  in  the  appearance  of  the  Messiah  began  to  dawn, 
the  Maccabean  dominion,  which  had  followed  the  Alexandrian 
or  Macedonian,  yielded  to  the  conquests  of  Pompey,  sixty- 
three  years  before  Christ’s  birth.  A quarter  of  a century 
later,  Herod,  assisted  by  the  Romans,  became  the  possessor  of 
the  land  and  king  over  Jerusalem.  He  rebuilt  the  temple  in 
great  splendor,  and  fortified  the  city  with  numerous  towers. 
During  this  period  of  external  beauty  and  glory,  Jesus  Christ, 
the  Lamb  of  God,  the  antitype  of  all  the  sacrifices  of  Moriah, 
api)eared  in  the  world,  and  walked  the  streets  of  the  Holy 
City  oftentimes, — to  be  disowned  in  the  temple,  which  he 
honored  with  his  divine  jn'esence, — God  in  the  veil  of  flesh ! — 
and  to  be  crucified  without  the  camj'),  that  he  might  sanctify 
the  people  with  his  own  blood. 

Jerusalem  as  a Jewish  city  soon  passes  out  of  sight;  for 
with  the  end  of  the  long,  bloody  siege,  in  which  Josephus 
asserts  over  a million  of  souls  perished,  the  most  terrible  siege 
of  historjq  if  that  author  is  to  be  credited,  Titus,  the  son 
of  Vespasian,  in  August,  A.  D.  70,  burned  the  city  and  the 
temple  of  Herod,  and  laid  the  city  in  ruins,  where  it  slept  in 
ashes,  uninhabited,  for  over  half  a century.  Hadrian,  the 
Roman  emperor,  about  A.  D.  132,  did  something  to  the  re- 
building of  the  city,  and,  it  is  claimed,  erected  a temple  to 
Jupiter  on  the  site  of  the  Jewish  temple.  For  almost  three 
centuries  the  history  of  Jerusalem  is  in  total  obscurity.  It 
probably  became  a Christian  city  in  a large  measure,  as  Euse- 
bius gives  us  the  names  of  a long  list  of  bishops  who  presided 
there.  The  mother  of  Constantine,  Empress  Helena,  visited 


LOCATION  OF  JERUSALEM. 


481 


Jerusalem  in  A.  D.  326,  and  took  a deep  and  pious  interest  in 
the  sacred  places  of  the  city  and  other  parts  of  the  Holy 
Land.  Constantine  followed  her  example.  Nearly  a half 
century  after  the  visit  of  Helena  to  Jerusalem,  Julian  the 
apostate  gave  the  Jews  permission  and  aid  looking  toward  the 
rebuilding  of  the  temple.  This  was  iirevented  by  the  bursting 
forth  of  balls  and  flames  of  fire  from  the  ruins  of  the  temple, 
by  which  the  workmen  were  burned  and  affrighted  and  led  to 
abandon  the  undertaking.  (Neander's  Church  History,  Vol.  II., 
page  50;  Gibbon’s  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire,  chapter  xxiii.) 
In  the  early  part  of  the  sixth  century  Justinian,  the  Greek, 
honored  the  city  of  Jerusalem,  as  well  as  other  portions  of 
Palestine,  with  structures  of  strength  upon  sacred  places.  A 
number  of  monasteries  about  Jerusalem  and  a church  in 
honor  of  the  mother  of  our  Lord  were  erected  by  him.  The 
Persians,  in  A.  D.  GI4,  took  Jerusalem  and  destroyed  much  of 
the  city.  It  was  again  restored  for  a few  years.  But  in  A.  D. 
637  the  Arabian  army,  commanded  by  Omar,  took  possession 
of  Jerusalem,  defeating  the  Greeks,  who,  it  is  said,  numbered 
twelve  thousand  soldiers.  About  A.  D.  960,  the  Eg3’ptians 
took  pos.session  of  the  citj" ; and  in  X.  I).  1099  the  Crusaders 
attacked  and  captured  it,  slaying  most  of  the  Mohammedans 
and  Jews.  The  citj'  continued  in  the  possession  of  the  Cru- 
saders for  nearly  ninety  years,  and  up  to  the  defeat  of  the 
Franks  by  Saladin,  on  the  hills  west  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee. 
(See  page  371.)  Saladin  took  possession  of  Jerusalem  A.  D. 
1187,  since  which  time,  with  varying  events,  it  has  continued 
a Mohammedan  citjn^ 

The  Jerusalem  of  to-day  occupies  nearly  the  same  location 
held  by  the  city  in  the  times  of  Solomon  and  Christ.  It  is  a 
city  of  hills  or  mountains.  The  whole  country  from  the  plains 
of  the  Jordan  in  the  east  and  the  plains  of  Sharon  on  the  coast 
of  the  sea  is  a vast  range  of  hills  and  mountain.s,  broken  and 
severed  by  deep-cut  wadies,  which,  running  down  into  one 
another,  course  awa^"^  to  the  plains  east  or  west.  In  the  midst 
of  these  mountains  which  are  “round  about  Jerusalem,” 
furnishing  its  defense,  stands  the  H0I3*  City  between  two  deep 

31 


482 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


valleys,  the  Kedron  on  the  east  and  the  valley  of  Hinnom  on 
the  west.  These  valleys  lie  more  than  a mile  distant  from  each 
other,  and  between  them  rise  the  mountains  Moriah  and  Zion, 
divided  by  the  Tyropeon  valley.  The  two  valleys  Kedron  and 
Hinnom  unite  almost  half  a mile  below  the  ju’esent  southern 
walls  of  the  city,  and  form  the  deep  gorge  called  the  valley  of 
Jehoshaphat,  which  winds  its  way  througli  the  hills  of  .Judea 
to  the  Dead  Sea.  These  valleys  north  of  Jerusalem  have  their 
start  in  gentle  depressions  within  a few  rods  of  each  other,  at 
a height  of  two  thou.sand  six  hundred  and  fifty  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  Mediterranean  Sea.  Diverging  from  each  other, 
they  encircle  the  ])lateau  on  which  the  city  stands,  and  then 
rapidly  sink  into  the  earth,  until  at  their  meeting  below  the 
“Well  of  Job”  they  have  sunk  six  hundred  and  seventy-two 
feet  below  their  origin.  The  Tyropeon  valley,  called  also  the 
valley  of  the  Cheese-mongers,  divides  tins  plateau  into  two 
sections,  leaving  Moriah  on  the  east  and  Zion  on  the  west.  It 
Avas  never  as  deep  as  the  other  valley,  and  disappears  in  the 
valley  of  the  Kedron  at  the  pool  of  Siloam.  The  elevation  of 
Jerusalem  is  two  thousand,  live  hundred  and  seventy-two  leet 
above  the  Mediterranean  Sea.  It  is  sixteen  miles  from  the 
Dead  Sea  and  thirty-six  from  Jo])pa.  The  city,  as  shotvn  in 
our  vicAV  from  the  mount  of  Olives,  is  surrounded  by  a massive 
stone  wall,  somcnvhat  resembling  a square,  about  two  and  a 
half  miles  in  entire  circumference,  or  a little  more  than  half  a 
mile  long  on  either  side.  The  east  wall  along  Mount  IMoriah 
is  more  nearly  straight,  while  the  north  Avail  is  the  longest  ot 
any  side  of  the  city.  It  is  a city  of  stone,  built  on  mountains 
of  strength  and  fortifi(“d  by  the  eternal  hills.  If  the  reader 
Avill  carefully  study  the  “ plan  of  Jerusalem”  as  presented  on 
page  488.  and  refer  to  it  freriuently  until  familiar  Avith  its 
scope  and  details,  he  Avill  have  secured  a correct  view  of  the 
city  and  be  Avell  prepared  to  journey  Avith  the  writer  to  the 
places  of  greatest  interest.  By  this  it  will  be  seen  that  the 
city  is  built  upon  five  hills.  Ophel,  noAV  south  of  the  east 
part  of  the  city,  Avas  embraced  in  the  ancient  Avails.  North  of 
it  is  Moriah,  and  north  of  Moriah  is  Bazetha,  occupied  by  the 


» 


PLAN  OF  JERUSALEM. 


483 


Mohammedan  quarters.  West  of  Moriah,  across  the  Tyro- 
peon  valley,  is  Zion,  higher  than  its  eastern  neighbor,  and 
north  of  Zion  is  Acra,  occupied  by  the  Christian  quarters. 


1.  Armenian  quarter. 

2.  Christian  quarter. 

3.  Mohammedan  quarter. 

4.  Jewish  quarter. 

6.  Upper  Gihon. 


6.  Lower  Gihon. 

7.  Pool  of  Hezekiah. 

8.  Zion  Gate. 

9.  Bethesda. 

10.  Dome  of  the  Rock. 


11.  Golden  Gate. 

12.  Tower  of  Antonia. 

13.  Church  of  Pater  Noster. 

14.  Absalom’.s  Tomb. 

15.  Aceldama. 


484 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


Jerusalem,  Shechem,  and  Damascus  are  the  cities  of  Pales- 
tine and  Syria,  upon  which  the  traveler  looks  with  wonder. 
And  they  are  as  unlike  in  their  character  and  surroundings 
as  can  be  well  imagined.  Shechem  is  guarded  by  a mountain 
on  either  side  towering  from  the  narrow  valley  to  a great 
height,  while  the  plain  is  full  of  springs  and  fruitful  gardens. 
Damascus  is  a dirt-city,  built  largely  of  sun-dried  mud  brick, 
and  is  sunk  in  the  midst  of  fertile  plains  stretching  away  for 
many  miles,  while  its  people  are  purely  oriental  in  all  their 
habits,  dress,  and  life.  Jerusalem  lies  between  two  valleys,  on 
the  plateau  ridging  up  into  two  hills  or  mountain  ranges, 
while  on  the  east  of  the  valley  rises  the  mount  of  Olives,  and 
on  the  west  the  hills  of  Judea.  It  is  a stone  city.  Its  walls, 
streets,  and  houses,  even  the  very  floors  of  the  houses,  are  of 
stone,  and  this  in  the  second  as  well  as  lower  stories.  Its  pop- 
ulation is  made  up  of  all  nations  under  the  sun,  while  Chris- 
tianity, Judaism,  and  Mohammedanism  all  claim  it  as  a great 
center  of  religious  power.  Each  have  their  sacred  places, 
reverenced  with  a sacred  ness  which  exceeds  our  utmost  con- 
ception of  possible  superstition. 

Jerusalem  is  a small  city,  and  yet  within  the  walls,  which 
are  less  than  two-and  three  fourtlr  miles  around  them  entire,  is 
found  a population  of  not  less  than  twenty  thousand  people, 
though  at  least  thirteen  acres  of  this  spot  is  taken  up  by 
the  temple  plateau  upon  which  stands  the  Mosque  of  Omar. 
There  are  only  a few  streets  wortliy  of  the  name,  and  the 
houses  are  so  closely  huilded  together  that  it  would  be  almost 
impossible  to  drive  a cart  through  the  streets  of  the  city.  In 
many  parts  of  the  city  the  buildings  are  so  crowded  together 
that  one  could  pass  from  one  house  to  another  on  the  house- 
top. And  such  it  has  been  from  all  time.  It  was  to  this  fact 
that  Christ  alluded  when  in  speaking  of  the  time  of  the 
destruction  of  the  city  of  Jerusalem  he  said,  “ Let  him  which 
is  on  the  house-top  not  come  down.”  (Matthew  xxiv.  17.) 
He  meant  that  they  should  flee  for  their  lives,  making  their 
escape  over  the  tops  of  their  houses.  This  could  be  done  more 
rapidly  and  successfully  than  through  the  crowded  streets. 


VIEW  IN  JERUSALEM.  Tower  of  David. 


486 


TEE  HOLY  LAND. 


The  most  delightful  view  to  he  had  of  the  Holy  City  is  from 
the  mount  of  Olives,  and  we  were  exceedingly  fortunate  in 
having  enjoyed  so  grand  a view  for  tlie  first  time.  Within 
there  is  nothing  beautiful  in  this  city.  As  one  treads  along 
the  streets  of  .Jerusalem,  he  is  assured  that  wonderful  changes 
have  been  wrought  in  its  history.  The  Jerusalem  of  Christ’s 
day  is  buried  beneath  the  stones  and  dust  and  dwellings  and 
streets  on  which  we  now  tread.  Beneath  that  is  tlie  city  of 
Xehemiah’s  day,  while  still  below  that  lie  the  ruins  of  the 
city  of  Solomon,  who  once  reigned  here  in  wonderful  glorv. 
The  rebuilders  of  the  city  each  time  alter  its  destruction  have 
founded  their  city  upon  the  debris  of  the  former  city.  Thus 
through  ages  following  ages  the  city  has  in  many  of  its  parts 
been  filled  up  until  we  walk  thirty,  forty,  and  at  ])laces  fifty 
feet  above  the  Jerusalem  that  was  in  the  days  of  Solomon, 
and  more  than  thirty  feet  above  the  city  of  Herod.  Go  where 
you  will  along  the  crowded  streets,  still  every  step  reminds 
3’ou  of  the  memories  and  deeds  of  this  most  sacred  of  all 
jdaces  on  the  earth.  With  all  this,  Jerusalem  of  to-day  is  per- 
haps the  dirtiest  city  of  its  size  on  the  globe.  ..lany  of  the 
streets  are  so  polluted  that  it  is  offensive  to  walk  in  them ; 
and  the  odor  rising  from  the  abundant  filth  almost  sickens 
one.  i\Ien  gayly  dressed  saunter  lazily  along  the  renowned 
streets,  while  poorly-clad  women  and  miserable-looking  chil- 
dren sit  in  the  narrow  ways  with  marketing  to  sell,  or  to  beg 
alms  of  the  passer-by.  Slowly  pressing  through  this  throng, 
intermingled  with  multitudes  of  dogs,  the  camels,  heavily 
loaded,  and  led  by  barefooted  Arabs,  and  the  donkeys  driven 
by  the  donkey-boys,  make  up  a scene  which  the  traveler  from 
afar  scarcely  expected  to  behold  in  the  Holy  City. 


ISjSDith 


EN  VI  HO  NS 


GibecCh-i , 
'TuLnii  cj^'dL 


'.neit^n.ip.1 


i f \ > S 

i^L  ■isav'-tyeru  ■ • I = 


Scopus  iSytr 


shtoaii. 

iifta 


choTr^Tuts 


Conyent  of  thf  Cross ^ 
3eir  el-l£ar  SuUahfh, 


-Atikoh 


Deir  Shsikh,  Sah 


w 

tp. 

^*\ ,A}fnQia^\ 


pi’s  Touib 
li  .RAhil 


-r-x 


The  Am^ric^an  Su/ida^  S(Ju>ol  TTrduon . ThJU.fuLelphia  . 

11 


( Coprjrighx.  2860. ! 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


Walk  about  Jerusalem  — Mount  of  Olives — Place  of  Christ’s  Ascension- 
Olives — Oil-Mill  — Taxation  of  the  Lands  — Via  Dolorosa — Brook 
Kedron  — Valley  of  Kedron  — Grotto  of  Jeremiah  — Tomb  of  Mary  — 
Gethsemane — Olive-Tree  inGethsemane  — Jewish  Tombs  — Tomb  of 
Absalom  — Other  Tombs  — Hill  of  Offense — Virgin’s  Fountain  — Pool 
of  Siloam  — En-rogel. 


;EFORE  continuing  our  journey  through  the  Holy 
11^  City,  it  may  be  well  to  “ walk  about  Zion  ” and  get 
a better  view  of  the  entire  surroundings  of  the  city 
where  we  are  to  spend  a number  of  days,  and  where 
our  hearts  are  to  be  often  touclied  with  the  tenderest 
emotions.  Where  would  the  reader  desire  to  pay  the 
first  visit?  There  is  no  spot  on  earth  more  tender  than 
Gethsemane,  just  down  across  the  valley  of  the  Kedron  on  the 
loAver  slopes  of  the  mount  of  Olives.  True,  we  passed  by  the 
garden  of  sorrows  on  our  entrance  to  the  city ; but  we  must 
make  another  visit  and  examine  the  garden  more  closely, 
and  commune  with  its  memories  more  fully.  Coming  out  of 
the  door  of  my  room  to  the  upper  court  of  the  hotel,  ready  for 
the  journey,  there  in  full  view  before  the  eye  stands  the  long 
mellow  range  of  the  mount  of  Olives,  with  its  winding  way 
over  which  the  Savior  passed  when  he  led  his  disciples  out  as 
far  as  Bethany.  The  summit  of  Olivet  is  crowned  with  the 
remains  of  the  Church  of  the  Ascension,  and  a IMohammedan 
mosque,  with  a tall  minaret.  The  olive-trees  here  and  there  seek 
to  shelter  the  bare  earth  and  white  limestone  steeps.  At  the 
base  of  the  mountain,  in  full  view,  is  the  beautiful  Garden  of 
Gethsemane,  where  our  Lord  wept  on  that  night  of  agony. 

Three  roads  ascend  the  mountain.  Beyond  the  summit  of 

487 


488 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


Olivet  and  the  Hill  of  Offense  are  the  blue  mountains  of  Moab, 
■which  tower  up  about  Xebo,  beyond  the  Dead  Sea.  Closer 
to  the  view  within  the  city  walls  are  the  fiat  roofs  of  the 
houses,  on  which  women  are  at  work  and  children  are  play- 
ing. One  lone,  solitary  palm-tree  rises  above  the  houses  to 
greet  the  eye.  And  there  on  Mount  Moriah  stands  the  Mosque 
of  Omar,  where  once  ^stood  the  Temple,  and  from  which  as- 
cended the  smoking  incense  and  perfume  from  the  hallowed 
altars  of  God. 

Our  illustration  presents  a beautiful  view  of  the  mount  of 
Olives,  with  the  inclosed  Garden  of  Gethsemane  just  at  its 
base.  The  summit  of  the  mountain  is  two  thousand,  seven 
hundred  and  twenty-three  feet  above  sea-level,  and  about  two 
hundred  feet  higher  than  the  temple  area— the  distance  from 
the  one  to  the  other  by  a straight  line  being  about  half  a mile. 
Looking  at  the  illustration,  which  clearly  shows  the  steep 
slopes  of  this  sacred  mountain,  you  are  facing  directly  east- 
ward. The  mount  of  Olives  is  over  a mile  long,  breaking 
down  about  one  hundred  feet  at  the  north  end  to  a spur  con- 
necting with  Scopus,  and  at  the  south  connecting  with  a ridge 
to  the  Hill  of  Ofiense.  The  top  of  the  mountain  is  reached 
by  three  roads,  diverging  just  at  the  Garden  of  Gethsemane. 
They  are  shown  in  our  illustration.  On  the  summit  of  tlie 
mountain,  Constantine  erected  a Christian  church  upon  what 
he  supposed  to  l)e  the  ]>lace  of  the  ascension  of  our  Lord. 
Various  buildings  have  crowned  the  spot;  and  a Mohamme- 
dan mosque,  constructed  of  the  former  buildings,  now  is  vis- 
ited by  great  numbers  of  j^ilgrims,  eager  to  see  the  fabulous 
prints  of  the  feet  of  Christ  which  are  there  shown.  No  intel- 
ligent person  believes  that  his  feet  made  any  prints  in  the 
rocks.  Luke  tells  us  that  Jesus  led  his  disciples  out  “as  far  as 
to  Bethany,”  which  is  some  distance  from  here,  and  really  not 
in  sight.  The  view  of  the  city  from  the  mountain  is  the  best 
to  be  obtained.  Just  back  of  the  Mohammedan  mosque,  on 
the  east  side  of  the  mountain,  is  a little  village  of  a dozen 
stone  houses,  called  the  “village  of  the  mount  of  Olives,”  its 
Arab  inhabitants  being  a pest,  if  not  a terror,  to  persons  who 
would  visit  these  places,  or  ]>ass  to  Bethany. 


Tomb  of  Mary.  MOUNT  OF  OLIVES.  Garden  of  Oothsemanc  inoioaod. 


490 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


In  the  Kedron  Valley  and  over  the  slopes  of  Olivet  grow 
great  numbers  of  the  olive-tree.  It  is  indeed  the  most  abun- 
dant growth  of  all  Palestine.  The  wood  is  a pretty  dark  color, 
and  with  oil  and  friction  is  polished  to  great  beauty.  It  is 
used  for  manufacturing  na})kin  - rings,  rules,  j>aper- knives, 
toilet  - boxes,  and  various  trinkets,  whicli  are  sold  in  great 
abundance  in  Jerusalem  and  taken  to  all  j)arts  of  the  world. 
There  are  large  stores  and  shops  in  Jerusalem  for  their  manu- 
facture and  sale.  The  tree  is  of  slow  growth,  and  does  not 
yield  fruit  until  it  is  nearly  a dozen  years  old,  and  then  bears 
every  other  year.  In  size  it  somewhat  resembles  an  apple-tree, 
though  the  trunk  in  great  age  becomes  much  larger.  The  top 
somewhat  resembles  a damson-tree,  though  the  dark-green 
leaf  is  longer  and  not  half ‘as  broad.  The  olive  is  a beautiful 
tree.  It  yiehls  a berry  lialf  the  size  of  a large  damson,  and 
much  the  same  shape,  which  when  ripe  is  shaken  from  the 
tree,  gathered  to  the 
oil-press,  and  ground 
or  mashed  by  a large 
stone,  like  a grindstone 
in  shajie,  rolled  around 
over  the  l^erries,  which 
are  placed  in  a large 
stone  basin,  seven  or  oil-mill. 

eight  feet  in  diameter.  The  mashed  berries  are  then  removed 
to  a lever  2)ress  and  the  juice  or  oil  pressed  out  of  them.  The 
oil  thus  secured  is  tlie  great  product  of  Pale.stine.  It  is  used 
for  lam])s,  and  for  all  culinary  purposes,  where  we  would  use 
lard,  and  also  in  the  place  of  vinegar.  It  has  a flat,  unpleas- 
ant taste ; and  at  first  I found  it  very  disagreeable,  but  soon 
became  accustomed  to  it,  so  as  to  really  relish  food  prepared 
in  the  olive-oil.  It  is  also  extensively  used  in  the  manu- 
facture of  soap,  and  is  shipped  to  all  parts  of  the  wmrld.  The 
production  of  the  olive-oil  could  readily  be  increased  to  a 
yet  much  greater  proportion.  It  is  estimated  that  one  half  of 
the  quantity  produced  is  consumed  in  the  manufacture  of 
soap  and  one  fourth  in  family  use,  and  yet  not  less  than 


TAXATION  OF  THE  LANDS. 


491 


twenty  tons  are  aniuuill}'  exported.  It  may  be  said  as  of  old, 
This  is  a “good  land,  a land  of  brooks  of  water,  of  fountains 
and  depths  that  spring  out  of  valleys  and  hills;  a land  of 
wheat,  and  barley,  and  vines,  and  fig-trees,  and  pomegranates; 
a land  of  oil  olive,  and  honey.”  (Deuteronomy  viii.  7,  8.)  No 
doubt  the  olive-tree,  which  grows  alike  in  the  valleys  and  on 
the  hills,  through  the  long,  dry  summer,  would  be  cultivated 
to  a much  greater  extent  were  it  not  for  the  burdensome  tax 
* placed  upon  it.  The  Turkish  government  taxes  a tree  from 
the  time  it  is  planted;  and  as  it  requires  ten  or  twelve  years 
to  come  to  fruit-bearing,  the  poor  people  are  not  able  to  pay 
the  tax,  and  hence  allow  their  lands  to  lie  bare.  The  Turkish 
government  in  this  and  every  other  respect,  either  from  abom- 
inable ignorance  as  to  the  policy  of  government,  or  from  down- 
right meanness  and  a desire  to  keep  the  people  in  poverty, 
peal  and  rob  the  people  from  the  very  root  of  every  industry. 
This  instance  is  a fair  example  of  many  others.  America 
would  encourage  industry  and  the  improvement  and  increase 
of  the  products  of  the  country.  Turkey  taxes  not  only  the 
fruits  of  the  land,  but  the  very  effort  to  produce  fruits.  The 
abundant  fruitfulness  and  rich  green  of  the  olive-tree  make  it 
a restful  and  beautiful  object  to  look  upon  in  all  the  land. 
David  said  he  was  “Like  a green  olive-tree  in  the  house  of 
God.”  (Psalms  lii.  8.)  The  olive  lives  to  great  age,  and  it  is 
stated  by  Conder  that  at  Gaza,  the  natives  assert,  not  a 
single  olive-tree  has  been  planted  since  tht'  possession  of 
the  land  by  the  Turks.  Their  tradition  points  to  trees 
which  existed  in  the  time  of  Alexander  the  Great.  Conder  is 
inclined  to  believe  that  the  tradition  which  says  no  trees  have 
been  planted  at  Gaza  since  the  INIoslom  conquest,  may  be  tru 
Yet  they  are  there  in  great  abundance.  I saw  no  dead  olive- 
trees  in  all  the  land,  nor  any  signs  of  dying  in  any  of  all  the 
thousands  of  trees  seen  in  all  parts  of  the  country.  They 
seem  never  to  die.  From  the  old  trunk,  brancl)''s  shoot  up  and 
form  a new  family  or  group  of  trees.  It  is  to  this  feature  of 
the  olive  that  the  psaln.ist  alludes  in  the  “ Song  of  degrees,” 
when  he  enumerates  the  blessings  upon  the  people  of  the  Lord 


492 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


and  among  them,  “Thy  children  like  olive-plants  round  about 
thy  table.”  (Psalms  cxxviii.  3.)  The  shade  of  the  olive  is 
most  delightful,  and  we  were  often  pleased  to  find  our  camp 
pitched  under  some  grand  old  olive-trees.  The  natives  do  not 
regard  the  shade  of  the  fig-tree  as  healthful.  They  think  it 
produces  ophthalmy.  The  olive  is  a favorite  shade  for  all. 

But  we  have  tarried  viewing  the  mount  of  Olives  too  long; 
let  us  now  continue  our  journey  to  Gethsemane.  Passing 
southward  along  Damascus  Street  we  come  to  a crossing  * 
in  which  Ave  turn  a square  angle  and  go  eastward  down  the 
street.  We  are  now  in  the  Via  Dolorosa,  the  Avay  of  the  cross, 
and  folloAV  this  narrow  way  dqwn  and  across  a loAver  valley  in 
the  city,  and  then  ascend  the  street  for  some  distance ; then 
turn  to  tlie  left  for  a fcAv  paces,  and  Avith  two  otlier  turns  fol- 
low the  street  leading  us  out  of  St.  Stephen’s  Gate.  A number 
of  Turkisli  soldiers  are  lazily  guarding  about  the  gate ; hut  there 
are  no  hinderances  to  our  passing  out  of  the  city  at  pleasure. 
Being  outside  the  city,  the  mount  of  Olives  is  full  in  view; 
hut  the  attention  is  directed  to  the  steep  descent  Avhich  must 
be  made  into  the  A'alley  of  the  Kedron.  The  summit  of 
Moriah,  outside  the  city  Avails,  far  toAvard  the  south-eastern 
corner  of  the  city,  is  covered  Avith  Mohammedan  tombs.  They 
are  Avhitewashed,  and  such  as  Ave  have  seen  in  many  other 
places.  A steep  path  leads  directly  down  the  hill  to  the  val- 
ley; but  a road  hearing  to  the  north,  half  Avay  down  the  hill, 
and  then  soutliAvard,  making  tAvo  turns,  leads  over  a stone 
bridge  of  a single  arch  to  the  east  side  of  the  brook  Kedron. 
The  valley  of  the  Kedron,  AA'hich  Avinds  doAvn  on  the  east  of 
the  city  elevation,  from  the  region  north  of  the  city  to  the 
junction  with  the  Valley  of  Hinnom  south  of  Jerusalem, 
entirely  separates  the  hills  or  mountains  upon  Avhich  the  city 
stands  from  the  range  of  the  mount  of  OUa'cs  east  and  north- 
east and  the  Hill  of  Offense  south-east.  The  bottom  of  this 
someAvhat  Avinding  A^alley  is  only  a few  hundred  yards  from 
the  east  Avail  of  the  city;  and  the  descent  from  St.  Stephen’s 
Gate  is  so  steep  that  the  road  is  made  to  take  two  turns,  so  as 
to  descend  the  hill  more  easily.  This  valley  is  sometimes 


TOMB  OF  MARY. 


493 


known  as  the  Valley  of  Ivedron  and  sometimes  as  the  Valley 
of  Jehoshaphat.  There  is  no  doubt  but  that  at  many  places  it 
has  been  filled  up  greatly  by  debris  thrown  out  of  the  city  and 
by  washings  from  the  hills.  So  much  is  this  the  case  that 
the  brook  Kcdron,  which  during  the  wet  season  flows  down 
its  stony  channel,  becomes  entirely  dry  during  the  summer- 
season.  While  the  writer  was  in  Jerusalem  the  Kedron  was 
entirely  dry.  Captain  Warren  in  his  exjJorations  and  exca- 
vations here  in  the  bed  of  the  valley  dug  down  forty  feet, 
where  he  found  a la}'er  of  pebl)les  and  stones,  worn  smooth, 
indicating  that  the  bed  of  tlie  brook  has  been  filled  up  from 
that  de])th.  Farther  .south,  and  closer  to  tlie  Temple  wall,  he 
found  the  rocks  to  lie  no  less  than  eighty  feet  below  the  pres- 
ent surface  of  the  earth.  Thus  the  original  valley  was  at  this 
point  eighty  feet  lower  than  it  appears  at  pre.sent.  No  doubt 
the  bed  of  the  Kedron  was  formerly  also  much  nearer  the 
wall  of  the  city  than  now,  cutting  close  under  the  steep  slopes 
of  Mount  Moriah.  The  Kedron  valley  north-east  of  the  city 
is  a broad,  beautiful  valley  of  cultivable  land  and  olive-or- 
chards. It  gradually  narrows  down,  until  at  the  nortli-east 
of  the  city  it  is  only  a few  rods  wide,  and  its  sides  are  steep. 
The  valley  about  the  Garden  of  Gethsemane  is  not  less  than 
forty  or  fifty  yards  wide.  Farther  southward  it  becomes  much 
narrower. 

A few  paces  from  the  bridge  over  the  Kedron  is  the  tra- 
ditional tomb  of  the  Virgin  Mary.  Several  flights  of  steps 
lead  down  to  a stone  chapel  cut  in  the  sol;d  rock.  Here  it  is 
asserted  Joachin  and  Anna,  the  reputed  parents  of  Mary, 
v/'ere  buried.  This  chapel,  the  floor  of  which  is  about  thirty- 
five  feet  below  the  surface  of  the  earth  and  eighteen  feet  wide 
and  ninety  feet  long,  is  lighted  with  silver  lamps.  Here  is  a 
well  of  cool  water.  But  you  are  more  surprised  at  being 
shown  the  sarcophagus  which  it  is  asserted  contains  the  dust 
of  the  mother  of  Christ.  When  she  died,  or  where  she  was 
buried,  no  one  can  tell. 

Farther  up  the  valley  and  on  the  east  of  the  bed  of  the  val- 
ley is  the  grotto  of  Jeremiah,  where  he  is  said  to  have  dwelt 


494 


THE  HOLY  LAND, 


ill  sorrow  for  a season,  and  where  he  wrote  his  Lamentations. 
It  is  a cave  in  the  rock,  now  used  as  a mosque.  From  the 
crossing  of  the  bridge,  a few  paces  brings  us  to  the  Garden  of 
(iethsemane,  where  Jesus  on  the  dark  night  of  his  betrayal 
into  the  hands  of  sinners  wrestled  alone  in  prayer  until  “ his 
sweat  was  as  it  were  great  drops  of  blood  falling  down  to  the 
ground.”  (Luke  xxii.  44.) 

Gethsemane  is  on  the  base  of  Mount  Olivet,  just  as  it  rises 
out  of  the  Valley  of  Kedron.  It  is  surrounded  by  a heavy 
stone  wall,  and  divided  into  several  compartments  by  a pretty 
picket-fence.  Eight  old  olive-trees  grow  here  which  tradition 
says  are  the  same  as  stood  here  in  the  time  of  the  sorrow,  of 
•Jesus.  The  Bible  narrative  says  nothing  of  olive-trees  being 
here.  However,  from  the  very  name  Gethsemane,  which  sig- 
nifies- “ oil-pre.‘JS,”  ic  is  altogether  2>rohable  that  Gethsemane 
was  then  as  now  an  olive-orchard.  These  trees  are  doubtless 
of  great  age.  The  olive  is  of  slow  growth  and  long  life,  and 
these  may  indeed  be  shoots  from  the  trees  which  concealed  the 
sorrowing  Son  of  God  in  that  awful  night  of  agony,  while  the 
hills  about  the  city  were  cnnvded  with  those  who  had  come 
to  the  passover.  The  old  trees  have  burst  open  at  the  trunks 
jierhaps  centuries  ago,  and  tlius  show  great  age.  Some  of 
them  are  as  much  as  nineteen  or  twenty  feet  in  circumference. 
There  is  a well  of  good  water  in  the  garden,  and  the  entire 
inclosure  is  jJanted  with  younger  olives  and  all  kinds  of 
beautiful  flowers.  The  garden  has  the  shape  of  an  irregular 
quadrangle,  and  has  a passage  all  around  it  just  inside  the 
wall  shut  off  by  the  ])icket-fence.  In  the  walls  here  and  there, 
and  at  the  corners,  are  small  oratories  with  images  in  them 
re|)resenting  various  scenes  connected  with  Christ's  associa- 
tion with  the  garden.  It  is  perhaps  eighty  yards  around  the 
entire  inclosure. 

We  knocked  at  the  gate  on  the  east  side  of  the  garden,  and 
a Franciscan  monk  received  us  courteously  indeed ; and  we 
w’ere  permitted  to  walk  in  every  part  of  Gethsemane.  He  also 
allowed  us  to  pluck  with  our  own  hands  such  flowers  as 
we  desired  to  bring  away  as  mementos  of  this  sacred  jdace. 


496 


THE  HOLY  LAHD. 


Close  to  the  entrance  is  a stone  which  marks  the  traditional 
j)lace  where  the  three  disciples  slept  while  Jesus  wrestled  in 
prayer.  Outside  of  the  wall  of  the  garden  is  a piece  of  broken 
column  which  marks  the  spot  where  Judas  betrayed  the  Son 
of  God  with  a kiss.  Visitors  who  enter  Gethsemane  are 
expected  to  give  at  least  a franc  to  the  monk  for  the  care  of 
the  garden.  This  custom  we  cheerfully  complied  with. 

Considerable  changes  have  occurred  in  the  level  of  the  earth 
here,  this  valley  having  been  filled  up  by  debris  and  washing 
from  the  mount  of  Olives.  Then  we  know  that  in  former 
time  the  Garden  of  Gethsemane  embraced  a larger  space  of 
land,  extending  farther  northward.  This  may  not  be  the 
precise  spot  where  our  Lord  struggled  with  the  powers  of 
darkness,  “and  being  in  an  agony  he  prayed  more  earnestly.” 
Still,  this  is  Gethsemane.  Do  I indeed  stand  in  this  garden  of 
unutterable  sorrow  of  my  Lord ! The  shadow’s  of  the  mystic 
and  the  eternal  steal  over  my  heart.  I am  melted  dowm  wdth 
the  presence  of  the  Lord  and  transformed  and  transported  by 
the  fellowship  of  Jesus.  It  was  here  that  “ he  came  out,  as  he 
was  w’ont,  to  the  mount  of  Olives,”  unto  a place  called  Geth- 
semane ; and  though  he  had  just  comforted  his  disciples  with 
that  deep,  loving,  wonderful,  consolitory  discourse,  beginning, 
“ Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled,”  and  followed  it  w’ith  that 
prayer  of  all  prayers,  yet  here  he  “ began  to  be  sore  amazed, 
and  to  be  verj’  heavy.”  Here  there  is  an  appeal  to  the  heart 
which  no  picture  and  no  w’ords  can  produce  or  even  represent. 
I never  felt  the  overpow’ering  agony  of  Jesus  in  its  impres- 
sions upon  my  ow’n  heart  as  when  standing  speechless  near 
the  spot  of  that  awful  night-anguish  of  soul.  Looking  up  to 
Moriah,  there  is  the  spot  w’here  stood  the  great  Temple  of 
Herod,  under  whose  full  moon-light  shadows  Jesus  passed  in 
coming  from  Mount  Zion,  where  he  had  been  wdth  his  disci- 
ples during  the  night.  Out  of  that  gate,  from  w’hich  a thou- 
sand years  before  David  had  fled  barefooted  from  Absalom, 
Jesus  was  followed  by  his  disciples.  Dowm  the  steep  of  Moriah 
he  passed,  winding  his  way  through  the  tents  which  covered 
the  lower  slopes  of  the  hill.  Into  the  deep  shadow's  of  these 


TOMB  OF  ABSALOM. 


497 


old  olive-trees,  or  their  predecessors,  he  led  Peter,  James,  and 
John,  saying  to  them,  “My  soul  is  exceeding  sorrowful  unto 
death.”  Hex’e,  where  the  Lord  often  resorted  beyond  the 
Kedron  to  pray  alone,  he  wrestled  with  the  powers  of  dark- 
ness through  lone  liours,  struggling  and  passing  to  and  fro 
betw’een  the  place  of  pra^'er,  where  he  bowed  in  unbearable 
grief,  and  the  spot  where  bis  three  disciples,  Peter,  James, 
and  John,  had  fallen  asleep.  The.se  hills  around  wei'o  possibly 
covered  with  tents ; and  all  around  the  sheltering  walls  of  the 
city  the  festive  pilgrims  to  the  feast  of  the  passover  la)'  in 
restful  slumber  wlien  Jesus  came  down  from  the  City  of 
David,  passed  under  the  soft  shadows  of  the  Temple,  then  out 
the  eastern  gate  of  the  city  and  down  the  winding  road,  over 
the  slopes  of  Moriah  across  the  Kedron,  into  the  olive-seclu- 
sions of  this  place  of  sorrow.  For  a long  time  I wandered 
through  this  solemn  and  yet  lovely  place.  My  heart  was 
too  full  to  speak  many  words.  Quickly  came  unnumbered 
thoughts,  tender,  solemn,  and  holy. 

If  we  have  been  long  enough  in  Gethsemane,  we  may  con- 
tinue our  walk  down  the  Kedron  Valley.  You  will  not  care 
to  1 ' more  than  reminded  that  the  Greek  Church,  moved  with 
jealousy  and  rivalry,  has  recently  fixed  upon  a spot  as  their 
Geth.semane,  a little  more  than  a hundred  yards  north-east  of 
this  place,  and  have  inclosed  a small  parcel  of  ground  in  a 
stone  wall.  Below  the  road  which  ascends  the  mount  of  Ol- 
ives, just  south  of  Gethsemane,  the  lower  part  of  the  Hill  of 
Oflense  is  thickly  crowded  with  Jewish  graves.  Only  a little 
way  below  the  road,  and  a little  distance  east  of  the  bed  of 
the  Kedron,  is  the  Tomb  of  Absalom,  where  it  is  believed  were 
deposited  the  remains  of  the  handsome,  proud,  rebellious,  and 
wdcked  .son  >f  David.  Close  by  where  the  tomb  stands,  and 
pc'-sibly  ( ver  these  very  rocks,  David  fled  when  driven  from 
Mount  Zion  by  the  terrible  rebellion  of  this  wicked  son.  A 
thousand  years  afterward  Jesuis,  in  sight  of  this  same  tomb, 
bore  a deeper  sorrow  than  that  )f  David,  when  he  wept  and 
prayed  in  the  garden.  This  tomb  is  a cube,  about  eighteen 
or  twenty  feet  in  size,  and  perhaps  to  the  square  twenty 

32 


498 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


feet  in  height.  It  is  cut  out  of  the  native  solid  rock,  and 
stands  separated  from  the  rock  on  three  sides  by  a passage 
about  ten  feet  wide  at  the  side  and  eight  feet  at  tlie  back. 
The  top  is  mounted  with  a kind  of  sjjire,  which  looks  like  an 
inverted  funnel.  It  contains  witliin  a chamber  about  eight 
feet  square  with  niches  on  the  side  for  the  reception  of  the 
bodies  of  the  dead.  The  original  door  is  closed  witli  rubbish 
and  stone,  but  an  opening  higlier  up  enables  one  to  creep 
in  and  climb  down  to  the  chamber.  The  tomb  is  almost  filled 
with  stones  which  have  been  thrown  into  it  througli  the  open- 
ings on  the  sides.  How  far  it  extends  below  the  stone  and 
earth  about  it  I do  not  know.  The  (juaint  monument  is 
forty-seven  feet  high  above  the  eartli.  This  jiillar  has  been 
identified  Avith  the  place  mentioned  in  II.  Samuel  xviii.  18, 
“Now  Absalom  in  his  life-time  had  taken  and  reared  up  for 
himself  a pillar,  Avhich  is  in  the  king's  dale.”  The  cornice  a:id 
other  features  of  the  monumental  tomb  seem  to  be  against 
the  theory  of  so  great  antiquity  since  it  is  only  known  in 
history  from  about  the  fourth  century  of  the  Christian  era. 
But  these  may  have  been  added  to  it,  or  may  indeed  be 
more  ancient  than  Ave  Avould  alloAv.  The  peculiar  structure 
impressed  me  as  fitting  Avell  to  the  “pillar”  raised  by  Absa- 
lom. I climbed  up  to  the  little  entrance  and  through  the 
small  chamber  Avithin  this  monument  of  the  long-ago  Avicked 
and  ungrateful  child.  It  is  the  custom  to  this  day  for  all 
passers-by  to  throw  a stone  at  this  tomb;  and  Avhile  the 
writer  was  climbing  through  it  and  examining  its  structure, 
design,  and  Avorkmanship,  he  Avas  frightened  for  a moment  by 
the  sharp  reports  of  stones  striking  the  rock.  The  momentary 
apjArehension  that  the  stones  Avcre  cast  at  him  Avere  soon  al- 
layed at  the  remembrance  of  tliis  custom  of  contempt  for  the 
place.  Some  passers-by  were  stoning  the  memory  and  tomb 
of  the  wicked  son  of  DaAud.  A fcAV  paces  southward  are  three 
other  remarkable  tombs,  with  a number  of  departments  or 
niches  for  the  dead.  They  are  of  great  antiquity.  The  one 
is  called  the  Tomb  of  Jehoshaphat,  the  second  the  Grotto  of  St. 
James,  and  the  other  the  Tomb  of  llezekiah.  The  tAvo  former 


VIRGIN’S  FOUNTAIN. 


499 


are  excavations  in  the  rock,  while  the  latter,  about  eighteen 
feet  square  and  twenty-nine  feet  high,  is  constructed  much 
liko  the  Tomb  of  Absalom,  but  is  mounted  with  a pyramid  all 
of  solid  rock.  These  tombs  lie  directly  opposite  the  south- 
east corner  of  the  temple  jdateau  across  the  Kedron,  and  in 
the  rock  of  the  Hill  of  Offense. 

Indeed,  the  rocks  and  hills  about  .Jerusalem  are  literally 
honey-combed  with  dismal  chambers,  where,  no  douV)t,  in  the 
long-ago  ages,  ])rophets,  kings,  priests,  and  noblemen,  illustri- 
ous in  tbeir  times,  were  laid  away  to  rest  in  the  last  long  sleep 
of  death.  Now  these  tombs  are  em])ty,  except  such  as  are 
used  by  poor  people  as  places  of  residence.  The  miserable 
little  village  Siloah,  farther  down  the  valley,  is  almost  one 
half  of  it  in  the  caverns  thus  cut  in  the  Hill  of  Offense,  on 
the  top  of  which  it  is  said  Solomon  had  erected  dwellings  for 
his  pagan  women.  Solomon  built  “a  high  place  for  Chemosh, 
the  abomination  of  Moab,  in  the  hill  that  is  before  Jerusalem, 
and  for  Molech.”  ( T.  Kings  xi.  7.)  Whether  this  is  the  hill 
I can  not  tell.  The  hill  is  a lower  continuation  of  the  mount 
of  Olives. 

Between  the  little  Arab  town  Siloah  and  the  Hill  Ophel, 
once  embraced  in  the  city  walls,  is  the  Virgin’s  Fountain, 
which  we  reached  by  descending  two  flights  of  broad  stone 
steps.  This  fountain,  down  in  a dark  cavern,  furnishes  a 
large  quantity  of  water,  which  is  carried  away  by  the  women 
in  their  queer-shaped  jars  and  in  goat-skins.  Here,  too,  they 
come  to  Avash  in  the  stream  flowing  from  it.  The  spring  is 
intermittent,  which  no  doubt  is  caused  by  a siphon  formation 
somewhere  above  in  the  rocks  through  Avhich  it  flows.  Thus 
the  spring  flows  freely  for  a few  hours,  and  then  ceases  en- 
tirely. This  flowing  and  ceasing  to  flow  occurs  a number  of 
times  each  day,  and  is  more  or  less  frequent  as  the  volume  of 
water  is  greater  or  less  in  quantity.  In  winter  there  are  from 
three  to  five  flows  per  diem ; in  summer  only  two.  If  the 
season  is  exceedingly  dry,  the  flow  occurs  only  once  in  two  or 
three  days.  This  fact  has  been  suggested  as  answering  to  the 
miraculous  troubling  of  tbe  px)l  “by  the  sheep-market,”  of 


500 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


which  we  have  an  account  in  John’s  gospel,  fifth  chapter. 
The  water  from  this  fountain,  carried  by  a channel  a quarter 
of  a mile  long  under  the  hill,  supplies  the  Pool  of  Siloam, 
which  formerly  was  included  in  the  city  walls.  This  channel 
is  about  two  feet  wide 
and  varies  in  height 
from  t w o to  sixteen 
feet.  Captain  Warren 
in  his  explorations  dis- 
covered a shaft  leading 
from  the  channel  to 
the  Hill  Oi)hel,  where 
a basin  was  hollowed 
out  for  it.  This  basin 
had  a connecting  shaft 
up  to  a corridor  exca- 
vated in  the  rock  where 
a flight  of  steps  led  to 
the  surface  of  the  earth 
in  the  ancient  city. 

This  arrangement  Avas 
doubtless  to  enable  the 
inhabitants  to  cut  off  uaedeiss  eoirrH-EASTWAim. 

the  flow  to  the  Pool  of  Siloam  in  case  of  war,  and  have  the 
Avater  brought  directly  within  the  reach  of  the  city.  Curi- 
ously constructed  glass  lamps  Avere  found  in  the  corridor, 
and  other  lamps  Avith  red  pottery  Avere  found.  The  Virgin’s 
Fountain  is  so  called  from  a tradition  that  Mary  here  washed 
her  clothes  and  those  of  the  infant  Christ. 

The  Pool  of  Siloam,  situated  at  the  foot  of  Ophel,  and  where 
the  Tyropeon  valley  enters  the  Valley  of  Jehoshaphat,  is 
fifty  feet  long  and  about  eighteen  feet  wide  and  twenty  feet 
deep.  All  agree  that  this  is  the  pool  of  New  Testament  his- 
tory, “ Siloam.’’  The  construction  of  the  pool  and  the  water- 
channel  aboA^e  mentioned  is  of  great  antiquity.  Isaiah  speaks 
of  the  “waters  of  Siloah,  that  go  softly.”  (Isaiah  viii.  6.)  He 
doubtlessly  refers  to  this  secret,  silent,  unseen  passage  from 


POOL  OF  SILOAM. 


501 


the  Virgin’s  Fountain  to  Siloam.  Neliemiah  tells  us  that 
Shallun  built  the  “ wall  of  the  pool  of  Siloah  by  the  king’s 
garden,  and  unto  the  stairs  that  go  down  from  the  city  of 
David.”  (Nehemiah  iii.  15.) 

Almost  five  hundred  years  later,  Jesus  of  Nazareth  pas.sing 
by  saw  a poor  blind  man  upon  whose  eyes  he  put  clay,  made 
of  earth  and  spittle,  and  said  to  him,  “ Go  wash  in  the  Tool 
of  yiloam.”  (John  ix.  7.)  To  this  same  pool  the  jioor  fellow 
came  staggering  and  blind,  and  no  doubt  climbed  down  these 
narrow  stone  steps  to  the  water  j and  there  where  those  two 
men  were  sitting  washing,  as  I read  the  account  so  graphically 
described  by  John,  he  washed  from  his  eyes  the  clay,  when 
suddenly  those  sightless  balls,  which  never  had  beheld  the 
light  of  day,  looked  astonished,  delighted,  and  enraptured 
upon  the  splendor  of  the  city  about  whose  walls  and  palaces 
and  streets  ho  had  wandered  in  darkness  from  his  childhood. 
I wondered  if  the  two  men  sitting  down  washing  in  the  pool 
may  not  have  had  some  knowledge  of  the  wonderful  miracle 
which  once  occurred  here.  While  remaining  there  a woman 
stood  patiently  waiting  at  a distance  dntil  the  men  had  as- 
cended the  steps  from  the  i)Ool,  and  then  she  went  down  and 
washed.  Siloam  is  one  of  the  most  renowned  pools  in  Jeru- 
salem, and  yet  its  massive  walls  are  falling  to  decay.  To  the 
Fountain  of  the  Virgin  and  the  Pool  of  Siloam  the  women 
came  down  from  Siloah  to  wash  and  to  carry  water  up  to 
their  hovels,  some  tilling  their  skin-bottles  from  the  same 
water  in  which  others  were  w'ashing.  A few  paces  below  this 
pool  is  a larger  Pool  of  Siloam,  which  is  now  entirely  out  of 
use,  and  is  largely  filled  up.  A number  of  trees  are  growing 
up  in  it.  Close  by  it  we  find  remnants  of  the  old  wall,  and 
possibly  of  the  stairs  which  “ went  down  from  the  city  of 
David  ” in  Nehemiah’s  time.  Just  south  of  this  pool  is  the 
old  mulberry-tree,  with  the  stones  piled  around  it,  which  for 
centuries  has  been  held  to  mark  the  jdace  where  Isaiah  was 
sawed  asunder. 

About  three  hundred  yards  farther  down  the  valley  is  the 
Well  of  .Tob,  as  it  is  now  called.  The  Greek  and  Latin  priests 


502 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


call  it  the  Well  of  Nehemiah.  It  is  the  ancient  En-rogel  of 
Joshua’s  time.  (Joshua  xv.  7.)  It  was  here  that  Jonathan 
and  Ahimaaz,  the  messengers  to  David,  waited  for  word  from 
Hushai,  who  would  tell  them  what  direction  David  must  take 
to  escape  the  hand  of  Absalom.  (II.  Samuel  xvii.  17.)  From 
this  close  watch  of  the  city  they  were  compelled  to  retreat 
because  of  tidings  borne  by  a lad  to  Absalom,  and  were  barely 
saved  by  a woman  covering  them  over  in  the  mouth  of  a cis- 
tern in  the  court  of  her  house.  This  is  probably  the  only 
never-failing  well  about  Jerusalem.  It  is  about  one  hundred 
and  twenty-four  feet  deep  and  is  covered  with  a rude  stone 
structure.  Some  men  were  drawing  water  from  its  depths 
when  I visited  it,  and  filling  huge  troughs  beside  the  well. 
The  depression  in  the  valley  here  is  very  great.  Looking  north- 
w’ard,  the  south-eastern  corner  of  the  city  walls  is  before  you, 
on  Moriah,  more  than  three  hundred  and  fifty  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  land  about  the  well. 

At  this  point  south  of  Jerusalem  the  Valley  of  Kedron  and 
that  of  Ilinnom  coming  down  on  the  west  of  the  city  unite 
and  form  the  great  deep  valley  which  continues  south-east- 
ward down  to  the  Dead  Sea.  While  several  of  our  com- 
pany were  engaged  in  taking  observations  from  En-rogel  a 
number  of  miserable  le])ers  came  one  after  another  around  us 
crying  and  whining  and  begging  for  backshish;  and  we  were 
glad  to  get  away  from  tins  distressing  company.  So  we  hast- 
ened away  from  the  ])lace  where  Adonijah  in  David’s  great 
age  usurped  the  throne  of  his  father  and  made  a great  feast 
for  tne  king’s  servants,  and  his  brethren.  (I.  Kings  i.  9.)  But 
Natha.li  the  prophet  and  Solomon  were  not  called  here  to  the 
feast.  Yet  for  all  this,  Adonijah  had  been  spared  by  Solomon 
save  for  his  asking,  through  Bathsheba,  for  Abishag  the  Shu- 
nammite  for  his  wife.  (I.  Kings  ii.  21-22.) 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


Valley  of  Hinnom— Molech  — Hill  of  Evil  Counsel — Field  of  Blood 
— Lower  Pool  of  Gihon  — Aqueduct  — Upper  Pool  of  Gihon  — Rain- 
Fall — Coronation  of  Solomon — Burial-Grounds — Olive-Trees — Tombs 
of  the  Kings — Tombs  of  the  Judges — Sepulcher  of  Christ  — Sepulcher 
Open  and  Closed  — Nob  — Saul’s  Murder  of  the  Priests. 


jj^T  En-rogel  the  two  valleys,  Kedron  on  the  east  and 
J Hinnom  on  the  west  of  Jerusalem,  are  united.  Pass- 
’ ing  westward  and  northward  from  En-rogel,  you 


ascend  the  V;illey  of  Hinnom,  or  Gehenna,  where  in  an- 
cient times  the  rubbish  of  the  Holy  City  tvas  burned. 
From  the  name  of  this  valley,  Gehenna  (fire),  we  derive 
our  New  Testament  words  “ hell  ” and  “hell-fire.”  Matthew 
uses  it  at  least  seven  times,  Mark  three  times,  Luke  once,  and 
James  om;e.  The  lower  portion  of  the  valley  was  called  To- 
phet ; and  here  they  burned  their  sons  and  daughters  in  the 
fire  as  an  offering  to  Molech.  (See  Jeremiah  vii.  31.)  In  this 
awful  wonship  Manasseh,  the  son  of  Hezekiah,  participated 
even  to  the  torturous  sacrifice  of  his  own  sons  (II.  Kings  xxi. 
6),  but  when  Josiah  came  to  the  throne  of  David  he  “defiled 
Topheth,”  “that  no  man  might  make  his  son  or  his  daughter 
to  pass  through  the  fire  to  Molech.”  (II.  Kings  xxiii.  10.) 

The  Hinnom  is  a deep,  crooked  valley,  dividing  Zion  from 
the  Hill  of  Evil  Counsel.  This  hill  is  so  called  from  the  tradi- 
tion that  Caiaphas  here  had  his  dwelling,  where  he  counseled 
with  the  Jews  how  he  might  put  Christ  to  death.  This  deep  val- 
ley always  made  an  attack  of  the  city  from  the  western  side  an 
impossibility.  The  Hill  of  Evil  Counsel  is  cut  thick  with 
unnumbered  rock  caverns  and  tombs,  which  in  the  early  Chris- 
tian centuries  were  inhabited  by  hermits.  Half  way  up  the 

503 


504 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


hill  is  tlie  supposed  site  of  the  Aceldama,  or  “Field  of  Blood,” 
purchased  ^vith  the  “ thirty  pieces  of  silver”  paid  to  Judas 
for  the  betrayal  of  his  Lord.  (Matthew  xxvii.  3-10;  Acts  i. 
18.)  From  this  spot,  bought  “to  bury  strangers  in,”  tradition 
asserts  several  ship-loads  of  dirt  were  taken  to  Pisa  to  cover 
the  Cnni]>n  Snutn,  in  A.  D.  1218.  (See  page  144.)  Fig,  olive, 
and  walnut  trees  are  found  along  the  valley  and  up  the  steep 
slopes  of  the  hill.  Mount  Zion,  now  largely  outside  of  the 
southern  wall,  is  covered  with  pottery  and  debris. 

In  this  valley,  between  Zion  and  the  Hill  of  Evil  Counsel,  is 
the  lower  and  larger  pool  of  Gihon,  called  Birlcet  es  Sultan.  It 
is  forty  feet  deep,  with  heavy  walls,  and  covers  almost  three 
acres  of  ground,  being  about  one  hundred  and  seventy-five 
yards  long  and  about  seventy-five  yards  wide.  It  is  too  low 
down  in  the  valley  for  the  Avater  ever  to  have  been  conveyed 
to  the  city.  Two  heavy  Avails  Avere  built  across  the  valley 
forming  itsloAver  part,  and  the  upper  part  is  cUt  out  of  the  rock. 
The  Avails  are  falling  doAvn,  and  it  does  not  now  contain 
water.  If  in  repair,  it  Avould  hold  not  less  than  nineteen  mill- 
ion gallons  of  water.  At  the  northern  edge  of  the  pool  the 
aqueduct  of  Solomon, — conveying  the  Avaterfrom  the  Pools  of 
Solomon  below  Bethlehem  to  Jerusalem, — crosses  the  Valley 
of  Ilinnom,  Avinds  soutliAvard  around  the  .dopes  of  Zion,  and 
enters  the  temple  plateau  on  the  south-east  •'>f  the  city.  This 
loAver  Pool  of  Gihon  lies  opposite  the  south-west  corner  of 
the  city  of  Jerusalem,  and  directly  south  of  the  Joppa.  Gate. 
It  was  probahh'  used  for  the  watering  of  the  gardens  of  the 
lower  A'alley. 

Farther  north  and  at  the  head  of  the  Gihon  Valley,  about 
one  hundred  and  fifty  rods  Ave.^Jt  of  the  Joppa  Gate,  is  the 
upper  Pool  of  Gihon,  called  hy  the  Mohammedans  Birket 
el  Mamilla.  This  pool  is  three  hundred  and  sixteen  feet 
long,  from  east  to  west,  and  tAvo  hundred  feet  wide  at  the 
west  end  and  two  hundred  and  eighteen  feet  at  the  east  end, 
with  an  aA'erago  dejith  of  eighteen  feet.  It  Avas  here  in  this 
valley,  close  by  these  pools,  that  Zadok  the  priest,  and  Nathan 
the  prophet  of  God,  at  the  request  of  David,  brought  the 


UPPER  POOL  OF  GIJION. 


505 


the  city,  close  to  the  Ynffa  Gate,  and  conveys  the  water  as 
desired  to  the  Pool  of  Hezekiah,  which  is  just  north  of  Chris- 
tian Street  in  the  city.  This  provision  for  the  supply  of  water 
to  the  city  was  made  not  less  than  two  and  a half  thousand 
years  ago.  The  pool  was  almost  dry  when  I visited  it,  though 
Dr.  Thompson  says  he  has  seen  it  full  of  water  after  a rain-fall. 
It  is  believed  to  have  formerly  been  supplied  from  a fountain 
now  entirely  unknown.  It  is  now  filled  from  the  drainage 
in  the  rainy  season.  The  hill  south  and  west  from  the  Yaffa 


youthful  Solomon  and  anointed  him  king  with  a horn  of  oil 
they  had  brought  from  the  tabernacle.  David  had  said  to 
them,  “ Take  with  you  the  servants  of  your  lord,  and  cause 
Solomon  my  son  to  ride  upon  mine  own  mule,  and  bring 
him  down  to  Gihon.”  (I.  Kings  i.  33.)  This  pool  was  con- 
structed more  than  seven  hundred  years  before  Christ ; for  we 
are  told  that  Hezekiah  “stopped  the  upper  water-course  of 
Gihon  and  brought  it  straight  down  to  the  west  side  of  the 
City  of  David.”  (II.  Chronicles  xxxii.  30.)  The  acjueduct 
thus  constructed  by  Hezekiah  passes  under  the  west  wall  of 


UPP— R POOL  OF  GIHON. 


506 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


Gate,  and  down  toward  the  Valle}’  of  Hinnom,  contains  the 
Armenian,  the  Christian,  and  the  Jewish  burial-grounds. 

These  pools  about  Jerusalem  and  in  the  city,  with  vast 
numbers  of  others  which  I have  not  space  to  describe,  show 
plainly  that  whatever  changes  may  have  occurred  in  Pales- 
tine in  the  last  two  or  three  thousand  years,  still  such  arrange- 
ments were  necessary  anciently  to  preserve  water  for  the 
inhabitants  of  the  land.  They  also  indicate  that  a population 
ven,’  many  times  greater  than  that  now  found  in  the  land 
existed  formerly,  as  many  of  these  pools  are  entirely  unused 
at  present,  and  are  really  not  needed.  The  countr}’  was  also 
subject  to  great  droughts  in  ancient  times,  against  which 
these  pools  were  a provision  for  the  cities.  In  the  days  of  the 
glory  of  the  land  vast  plains,  as  well  as  gardens  and  valleys, 
were  watered  by  aqueducts  leading  from  these  pools.  Even 
the  Valley  of  Jericho,  now  so  barren,  was  a “region  fit  for  the 
gods.”  The  year  is  divided  into  two  seasons.  The  “early 
rains”  commence  usually  in  November,  and  for  about  five 
months  there  is  an  abundance  of  rain-fall.  After  the  “latter 
rains,”  which  cease  in  March,  and  which  mature  the  crops, 
there  is  a long,  dry  summer  of  seven  months  Avithout  any 
rain.  Various  estimates  have  been  made  as  to  the  amount  of 
rain-fall  in  Palestine.  Dr.  Barclay  gives  the  average  rain-fall 
at  Jerusalem  as  about  fifty-six  inches.  Dr.  Vartan’s  observa- 
tion at  Nazareth  gives  it  as  a little  ab(we  twenty-three  inches 
per  year,  on  an  average  of  eight  years.  Lieutenant  Conder 
thinks  the  average  for  the  land  may  be  placed  at  tAventy  or 
thirty  inches.  Thus  it  is  seen  to  be  more  than  that  at  Lon- 
don, which  is  tweirty-five  inches,  and  less  than  in  the  United 
States,  Avhich  is  giA'en  at  forty-five  inches.  These  pools  and 
cisterns  and  aqueducts  show  plainly  that  if  put  in  proper 
order  they  haA’e  capacity  to  furnish  water  to  irrigate  the 
whole  land,  and  thus  supply  from  the  rain-fall  an  immense 
population. 

Farther  north  on  the  higher  grounds  are  the  modern  Rus- 
sian buildings,  the  finest  outside  the  city  walls.  The  Rus- 
sian consul  has  his  residence  here.  A large  cathedral,  and 


TOMBS  OF  THE  KINGS. 


507 


liospitals,  one  for  women  and  one  for  men,  furnish  sheltering- 
places  for  the  hundreds  and  thousands  of  Russo -Greek  pil- 
grims who  visit  the  Holy  City. 

Nortli  of  the  city  of  Jerusalem  are  large  orchards  of  olive- 
trees,  thickly  scattered  everywhere.  The  land  is  quite  rocky; 
and  some  of  the  trees  look  to  be  of  great  age,  though  not 
nearl}'  so  large  as  those  in  the  Garden  of  Gethsemane. 

One  afternoon  we  started  out  on  foot  through  these  groves 
north  of  the  city  to  visit  some  ancient  tombs.  While  all  about 
Jerusalem  there  are  many  of  these  interesting  excavations  in 
the  solid  rock,  those  north  of  the  city  are  the  most  important. 
A few  paces  from  the  main  road  to  Shechem,  in  the  olive- 
groves  about  three  quarters  of  a mile  from  Damascus  Gate,  are 
the  Tombs  of  the  Kings.  These  consist  of  vast  chambers  and 
rooms  connected  by  narrow  passages  all  cut  in  the  hard,  solid 
rock.  In  these  chambers  and  smaller  rooms  are  cr}"pts  and 
niches  for  the  deposit  of  the  bodies  of  the  dead.  There  was 
an  open  court  before  the  tomb  nearly  ninety  feet  squai'e,  exca- 
vated in  the  rock  a depth  of  five  or  six  feet.  A portico  about 
forty  feet  long,  fifteen  feet  high,  and  seven  feet  wide,  covered 
the  entrance  to  the  ante-chamber  at  the  southern  end  of  the 
portico.  The  entrance-way  is  a low  door  through  which  we 
crept  into  the  first  chamber,  nearly  twenty  feet  square  and 
about  seven  feet  high.  The  passages  are  small,  being  not  over 
tt\"o  feet  wide  and  three  high  ; and  one  experiences  a sufibcat- 
ing  and  depressed  and  lonely  sensation  as  he  by  a dim  taper 
crawls  from  one  to  another,  winding  here  and  there,  now  and 
then  descending  lower  or  climbing  up  to  another  chamber, 
while  on  every  side  are  little  shelves  in  the  rock  for  the  recep- 
tion of  the  dead  of  long  ago.  Most  of  these  are  like  pigeon- 
holes cut  in  the  rock  into  which  the  dead  body  could  be 
pushed.  There  are  four  of  these  gloomy  chambers  with 
their  surrounding  crypts  for  the  dead.  These  holes  are  about 
twenty  inches  wide  and  twenty-five  high,  and  deep  as  the 
length  of  the  human  body.  The  entire  excavation,  which 
furnished  a burial-place  for  about  sixty  bodies,  is  a reminder 
of  the  royalty  and  wealth  of  those  who  produced  it,  and 


cos 


THE  HOLY  LAHD. 


who  were  entombed  here  in  splendor.  The  chambers  were 
once  closed  with  huge  stone  doors.  When  a body  Avas  placed 
in  its  last  resting-place,  the  niche  was  closed  with  a stone 
slab  fitted  and  cemented  in  the  mouth  of  the  tomb.  This 
made  the  vaults  in  which  the  bodies  Avere  deposited  air-tight 
all  around  the  chambers,  and  other  vaults  could  be  dug  and 
the  tomb  thus  improved  as  desired.  In  this  manner  a sepul- 
clier  could  be  enlarged.  It  Avas  to  this  custom  of  enlarging  the 
sepulchers  and  depositing  the  dead  Avith  the  bodies  of  those 
who  had  gone  before  that  the  phrase  alludes  as  Ave  often  meet 
it,  “Buried  in  tlie  sepulcher  of  his  father.”  (Judges  viii.  32, 
11;  Samuel  ii.  32.)  Jacob  had,  no  doubt,  thus  enlarged  the 
caA’e  of  ]\Iachpelah,  though  Abraham,  and  Sarah,  and  Isaac, 
and  Rebecca,  and  Leali  Avere  already  buried  there.  We  learn 
this  from  Joseph,  Avho  says,  “ My  father  made  me  swear,  say- 
ing, Lo,  I die:  in  my  grave  Avhich  I have  digged  for  me  in 
the  land  of  Canaan,  there  shalt  thou  bury  me.”  (Gene.sis  1.  5.) 
From  this  Ave  may  readily  infer  that  Jacob  had  prepared  a 
niche  in  the  rock  in  the  cave  of  Machj)elah,  Avhere  he  was 
buried  beside  Leah.  In  some  of  the  tombs  the  niches  Avere 
formed  as  shelves,  into  Avhich  the  dead  body  Avas  laid  in  the 
same  manner  as  in  the  Catacombs  at  Rome.  Why  they  are 
called  the  Tombs  of  the  Kings  I do  not  know,  as  there  is  no 
evidence  that  any  of  the  kings  of  Israel  A\"ere  buried  in  them. 

A mile  north  and  Avest  of  the  Tomhs  of  the  Kings  and  aboUt 
a mile  and  a half  from  the  northern  wall  of  Jerusalem  are  the 
Tombs  of  the  Judges.  They  are  surrounded  by  great  rocky 
regions  of  land,  over  which  we  clambered  Avith  weary  steps. 
The  entrance  to  these  tombs  is  beautifully  decorated  Avith  a 
vestibule,  tAvelve  feet  wide,  carved  in  the  rock,  and  orna- 
mented Avith  floAvers  and  vines,  finely  wrought  in  the  rock. 
The  interior  someAvhat  resembles  the  Tombs  of  the  Kings, 
though  the  Avhole  atfiiir  seems  more  complicated  and  mysteri- 
ous in  its  arrangement.  The  first  chamber  entered  is  about 
twenty  feet  square,  but  the  others  are  much  smaller.  Probably 
fifty  or  more  places  are  shown  Avhere  the  dead  Avere  once  depos- 
ited. XoAv  the  lone  empty  vaults  remain  to  be  looked  upon 


SEPULCHER  OF  CHRIST. 


509 


bv  the  traveler.  With  a small  taper  in  hand,  I literally  crept 
from  one  chamber  to  another,  exploring  every  nook  and 
corner  of  these  habitations  of  the  dead.  Some  of  the  open- 
ings to  the  chambers  are  so  small  that  one  can  barely  press 
his  way  into  them.  It  must  have  requin'd  years  to  cut  these 
openings  in  this  hard  lime-stone  rock.  These  rock  sepulchers 
are  not  now  used  for  the  burial  of  the  dead ; and  the  fact 
that  the  ancients  buried  treasures  of  various  kinds  with  the 
departed  led  to  the  breaking  o|')en  and  robbing  of  these  tombs 
centuries  ago. 

Is  it  iwobable  that  C'hri.''t  was  buried  in  such  a tomb  as  is 
above  described  ? We  think  not.  Itcspecting  the  tomb  of 
Christ,  Mattliew,  Mark,  and  Luke  tell  us  that  it  was  “hewn 
in  stone  ’’  and  “hewn  out  of  a rock.”  Matthew  tells  us  that 


SEPULCHER  OPEN.  SEPULCHER  CLOSED  AND  SEALED. 

it  was  a “new  tomb”  (Matthew  xxvii.  60),  while  John  says  it 
was  “a  new  sepulcher,  wherein  was  never  man  j'et  laid.” 
(John  xix.  41.)  Thus  we  may  conclude  that  the  sepulcher  had 
but  one  room,  the  niches  inobaldy  not  having  j’et  been  pre- 
pared, and  the  body  of  Jesus  was  placed  in  that  rock  chamber ; 
or  if  the  niches  had  been  prepared,  the  body  of  Christ  was  not 
deposited  in  one  of  them  on  account  of  its  incompleted  em- 
balmment. (Mark  xvi.  1.)  If  the  body  was  placed  in  the 
usual  niche  it  was  in  a kind  of  shelf  in  the  rock,  so  that  when 
Mary  looked  into  the  tomb  she  saw  two  angels  “ sitting,  the 
one  at  the  head  and  the  other  at  the  feet,  where  the  body  of 
Jesus  had  lain.”  (John  xx.  12.)  The  entrance  to  these  tombs 
was  closed  either  by  a square  stone,  like  a door,  which  moved 
on  hinges,  or  by  a large  round  stone  in  the  shape  of  a wheel, 
which  could  be  rolled  against  the  opening. 


510 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


The  cut  on  page  509  shows  the  round  stone  door,  the  one 
being  open  and  the  other  closed  and  sealed.  This  is  done  by 
fastening  a string  across  and  sealing  it  Avith  wax.  In  this 
manner  the  JeAVS  sealed  the  tomb  of  Christ  before  setting  a 
AA'atch  about  it.  (Matthew  xxA'ii.  66.)  The  entrance  to  these 
tombs  is  by  a Ioaa'  door,  so  that  aa'c  can  readily  understand  the 
expression  “ stooping  down,”  respecting  Peter’s  position  as 
he  looked  into  the  sei)ulcher,  and  how  Mary,  as  she  Avept, 
“stooped  doAvn”  to  look  into  the  place  AA'here  they  had  laid 
her  Lord.  (John  xx.  11.) 

A little  Avay  east  of  the  main  road  to  Shecliem  from  Jerusa- 
lem, and  on  the  northern  slopes  of  the  mount  of  Olives  some- 
Avhere,  once  stood  Nob,  the  city  of  the  priests.  Isaiah  speaks 
of  it  as  being  on  the  way  of  Sennacherib’s  army  Avhich  came 
by  Aiath,  Michmash,  Ramah,  Gibeah,  Anathoth,  and  to  Nob, 
Avhere  he  should  “ shake  his  hand  against  the  mount  of  the 
daughter  of  Zion,  the  hill  of  Jerusalem.”  (Isaiah  x.  32.)  Thus 
we  are  sure  that  Nob  Avas  located  somewhere  near  the  north- 
western part  of  the  mount  of  OHa'cs.  Lieutenant  Conder 
describes  a plateau  a little  way  to  the  right  of  the  road  from 
the  Damascus  Gate  toAA’ard  Shechem,  three  hundred  yards 
AA’ide  and  eight  hundred  yards  from  east  to  west,  AA’ith  a hill 
connecting  the  plateau  with  Olivet.  Jerusalem  is  visible. 
SomeAvhere  here  he  locates  Nob.  Of  course  there  are  no  traces 
of  the  place,  nor  should  Ave  expect  to  find  any  remnants  of 
a toAvn  destroyed  more  than  three  thousand  years  ago.  Saul 
in  his  rage  against  David  commanded  Doeg  to  destroy  the 
priests  because  he  supposed  them  to  sympathize  with  David, 
and  “ Doeg  the  Edomite  turned,  and  he  fell  upon  the  priests, 
and  slcAV  on  that  day  fourscore  and  five  persons  that  did  wear 
a linen  ephod.  And  Nob,  the  city  of  the  priests,  smote  he 
with  the  edge  of  the  sword,  both  men  and  Avomen,  children 
and  sucklings,  and  oxen,  and  asses,  and  sheep,  Avith  the  edge 
of  the  sword.”  (I.  Samuel  xxii.  18,  19.)  It  was  an  aAvful  deed 
that  shamed  and  sorroAved  the  place  of  the  priests,  the  precise 
location  of  which  Avill  probably  remain  forever  unknown. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 


Walls  of  Jerusalem  — Towers  — Eastern  Wall  — Great  Stones — Founda- 
tions — Golden  Gate — Council- Cbambers  — Superstitions  — Place  of 
Judgment  — St.  Stephen’s  Gale  — Herod’s  Gate — Damascus  Gate  — 
Length  of  Entire  Wall  — Joppa  Gate  — Tower  of  David  — Mount  Zion 
— Zion  Gate  — Tyropeon  Valley  — Dung  Gate  — Stone-Quarries  under 
the  City  — Jeremiah’s  Grotto  — Golgotha. 


Jerusalem  is  strongly  defended  by  massive  walls, 
i which  are  over  two  and  a half  miles  in  circumfer- 
ehee.  Like  the  New  Jerusalem,  of  which  it  is  a type, 


the  city  lies  “four-square.”  The  wall  is  nine  feet  in  thick- 
ly ness,  and  averages  sixty  feet  in  height  on  the  outside. 

I At  the  south-eastern  corner  of  the  city  it  is  eighty  feet 
high,  while  at  places  it  is  not  over  forty.  The  top  is  mounted 
with  a parapet,  behind  and  belotv  which  is  a walk  nearly  two 
feet  wide,  upon  which  one  may  pass  entirely  around  the  wall. 
There  are  great  towers,  which  are  higher  than  the  walls, 
some  of  which  remain  from  the  ancient  times.  The  wall  on 
the  ea.stern  side  along  the  hills  Moriah  and  Bezetha  is  nearly 
straight,  running  almost  due  north  and  south.  Its  length 
is  a little  over  half  a mile.  It  has  a gradual  descent  from 
the  north  to  the  south,  and  is  entered  by  only  one  opening, 
called  St.  Stephen’s  Gate,  which  is  a little  more  than  one  third 
of  the  way  dow’n  from  the  northern  end  of  the  wall.  The 
walls  show  evident  signs  of  different  periods  of  construction. 
At  the  south-eastern  corner  there  are  great  stones  in  the  lower 
part  of  the  wall,  nearly  twenty  feet  long  and  four  and  five  feet 
thick.  They  have  the  Jewish  bevel,  and  no  doubt  were  placed 
in  their  present  position  in  the  times  of  the  great  prosperity 
of  Jerusalem.  No  d(niV)t  many  of  these  great  stones  were  here 

511 


512 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


where  they  now  lie  when  Solomon  saw  the  blessing  of  God 
resting  upon  the  kingdom  of  his  father  David,  which  he  had 
been  chosen  to  administer. 

Captain  Warren  sunk  shafts  down  near  the  south-eastern 
corner  of  the  city  and  found  the  foundation  of  the  wall  sixty 
and  even  eighty  feet  below  the  present  surface  of  the  earth. 
Here  on  the  slopes  of  Moriah  it  is  not  only  founded  upon  the 
solid  native  rock,  but  a scarp  about  five  feet  wide  is  cut  in  the 
rock  and  the  wall  built  in  it  so  that  it  is  impossible  for  the 
foundations  to  be  removed. 

There  are  seven  gates  to  the  pi-esent  wall,  five  of  which  only 
are  open.  About  a thousand  and  fifty  feet  from  the  south- 
east corner  of  the  city  wall,  and  near  the  north-east  corner  of 
the  temple  plateau,  is  the  Golden  Gate,  the  most  beautiful  in 
its  architectural  structure  of  any  of  the  entrances  to  the  Holy 
City.  There  is  a projection  of  the  massive  wall  of  six  feet  for 
the  length  of  fifty-five  feet,  in  the  center  of  which  once 
opened  this  beautiful  gate,  entering  into  the  temple  plateau. 
It  is  walled  shut  on  the  outside,  and  has  been  so  for  probably  a 
thousand  years,  and  possibly  much  longer,  though  an  entrance 
to  its  chamber  on  the  inside  is  open.  There  is  something  sug- 
gestive in  this  splendid  gate  having  been  so  long  closed,  and 
the  more  striking  when  we  remember  that  it  is  most  probable 
that  it  occupies  the  site  of  the  “way  of  the  gate  of  the  out- 
ward sanctuary  which  looked  toward  the  east,”  as  described 
by  the  prophet  more  than  five  hundi’ed  years  before  Christ. 
Then  he  declared,  “This  gate  shall  be  shut,  it  shall  not  be 
opened,  and  no  man  shall  enter  in  by  it;  because  the  Lord'' 
the  God  of  Israel  hath  entered  in  b}'  it,  therefore  it  shall  be 
shut.”  (Ezekiel  xliv.  2.)  It  had  a double  entrance,  mounted 
with  Roman  arches,  sustained  on  either  side  by  Corinthian 
columns,  richly  carved  and  sculptured.  Dr.  Robinson  thinks 
it  possible  that  it  was  erected  by  Hadrian  in  the  second 
century  as  an  entrance  to  the  Jupiter  Temple,  which  he 
erected  on  the  site  of  the  Temple  of  Solomon.  If  so,  it  doubt- 
less stands  upon  the  foundation  of  another  gate  which  was 
wasted  in  the  destruction  of  the  city.  Its  double  entrance 


GOLDEN  GATE. 


bn 

shows  us  that  it  was  intiuuled  by  one  o])ening  to  admit  those 
wlio  would  enter  tlie  city,  while  the  other  might  be  thronged 
and  pressed  by  those  departing.  The  Hoor  of  the  tower  inside 
is  about  twenty  feet  below  the  level  of  the  llaram  plateau. 
The  view,  from  the  toj),  over  the  city  and  over  the  Valley 
of  Kedron  is  very  delightful.  Traditinn  has  connected  this 


THE  GOLDEN  GATE  — INTERIOR  VIEW. 

gate  with  the  ‘‘gate  of  the  Tem])le  which  is  called  Beau- 
titul  ” (Acts  iii.  2);  but  this  is  a mistake,  as  that  doubtless 
was  an  entrance  to  the  Temple  proper,  though  not  far  from 
this  place.  The  tow(>r  of  this  gate  is  sixty-eight  by  thirty- 
four  feet  oast  and  wast  and  north  and  south,  and  contains  the 

33 


514 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


most  splendid  chamber  of  any  of  the  gates  of  Jerusalem.  Our 
illustration  on  page  513  gives  a tine  view  of  the  interior  of 
the  Golden  Gate. 

The  great  chambers  of  the  gates  are  not  only  occupied  by 
the  guards  of  the  city,  but  are  the  rooms  where  petty  trials 
are  conducted;  and  in  times  of  war,  councils  are  held  in 
them.  It  was  from  this  custom  that  Jesus  drew  one  of  his 
most  powerful  utterances  when  he  sj)oke  to  Peter  and  his  dis- 
ciples of  the  security  of  his  church,  saying,  “The  gates  of  hell 
shall  not  prevail  against  it.’’  (Mattliew  xvi.  18.)  Tlie  council- 
chambers  of  hell  and  the  armies  of  hell  which  come  out  of 
its  gates  shall  not  prevail  against  the  church  of  Christ. 

The  ^loliamniedans  hold  the  superstitious  idea  that  it  is  at 
this  gate  the  Christians  will  some  day  endeavor  to  enter  the 
city  to  capture  it;  and  hence  it  is  walled  shut.  A little  south 
of  this  gate,  near  the  top  of  the  wall  on  tlie  outside,  is  a 
broken  column  about  one  and  a half  feet  in  diameter,  which 
protrudes  from  the  wall,  upon  which,  the  Mohammedans  as- 
sert, Mohammed  is  to  sit  at  the  end  of  the  world.  A wire  is 
to  be  stretched  from  this  place  to  Mount  Olivet,  and  whoever 
can  walk,  assisted  by  the  angels,  on  that  wire  acfoss  the  Val- 
ley of  Kedron  will  enter  heaven ; tho.se  who  fall  off  will  be 
carried  away  to  hell.  A few  hundred  yards  north  of  the 
Golden  Gate  is  the.  St.  Stephen’s  Gate,  which  is  the  great  en- 
trance and  exit  for  the  })ilgrims  and  travelers  from  the  Jericho 
country.  Out  of  this  gate,  or  the  one  standing  at  this  place, 
Christ  with  his  disciples  often  passed  at  even-tide  as  he  turned 
away  from  the  city  to  go  to  Bethany,  beyond  Olivet. 

There  are  two  gates  in  the  northern  wall.  The  one  called 
“Herod’s  Gate”  is  closed,  while  Damascus  Gate,  at  the  termi- 
nus of  the  street  of  the  same  name,  affords  the  passage  for  all 
who  travel  to  Shechem  or  the  country  of  the  north.  It  stands 
in  the  valley  which  divides  the  hills  Bezetha  and  Akra,  and 
is  one  of  the  best-built  and  mo.st  strongly-fortified  enfrances 
to  the  city.  (See  illu.stration  on  j)age  475.)  It  was  undoubtedly 
hut  of  this  gate  that  Saul  of  Tarsus,  with  his  companions, 
passed  proud  and  defiant,  as  he  started  for  distant  Damascus 
to  arrest  and  maltreat  the  disciples  of  Christ. 


ro  WER  OF  DA  vm 


515 


Hei’od’s  Gate,  now  closed,  is  about  three  hundred  and  sev- 
enty-five yards  east  of  the  Damascus  Gate,  and  three  hundred 
and  thirty  yards  from  the  north-east  corner  of  the  city  wall. 
From  the  Damascus  Gate  the  wall  runs  nearly  west  south- 
west, about  six  hundred  yards  to  the  north-west  corner  of 
the  city.  Thus  the  entire  length  of  the  northern  wall  is 
nearly  three  (quarters  of  a mile.  There  is  considerable  de- 
pression of  the  earth  at  the  Damascus  Gate,  and  the  wall 
gradually  rises  as  it  goes  toward  the  west  corner.  The  wall 
on  the  west  side  of  the  city  is  the  shortc-st  of  any,  being 
about  half  a mile  long,  with  the  Yaffa,  or  Joppa,  Gate  a little 
north  of  the  middle.  It  is  irregular  and  crooked  north  of  the 
Joppa  Gate.  From  that  point  to  the  south-west  corner  of  the 
city  it  is  almost  straight  and  runs  north  and  south  parallel 
with  the  wall  on  the  east  of  the  city.  Just  south  of  the  Joppa 
Gate  is  the  Citadel,  or  Tower  of  David,  as  seen  in  our  illustra- 
tion QU  page  485.  It  is  a quaint  old  structure  or  group  of  five 
square  towers  irregularly  combined,  with  a deep  wide  moat 
surrounding  it,  walled  up  above  the  street  to  j)revent  man  or 
beast  falling  into  it.  This  moat  is  about  eighty  feet  wide  and 
probably  originally  as  deep,  but  it  is  now  considerably  filled 
with  earth.  The  tow'er  is  somewdiat  concealed  from  view  as 
you  approach  the  city  on  the  Joppa  road  by  the  tow'er  of  the 
Joppa  Gate,  once  called  the  “Fish  Gate.”  (II.  Chron.  xxxiii. 
14.)  The  foundations  of  the  tower  and  parts  of  the  structure 
are  of  great. antiquity,  being  built  of  large  stone,  some  of  them 
ten  feet  long,  and  dressed  with  the  bevel  peculiar  to  Jewish 
structures.  The  height  of  the  tow'er  is  given  by  Dr.  McGarvey 
as  about  eighty  feet.  It  is  suiiposexl  to  occupy  the  site  of  the 
Tower  of  Hippicus,  as  mentioned  by  Josephus. 

The  walls  on  the  west  and  south  do  not  embrace  all  of 
Mount  Zion.  About  half  of  that  sacred  hill  lies  outside  of 
the  wall.  Part  of  it  is  cultivated,  while  a considerable  por- 
tion is  covered  with  pottery  and  debris.  In  this  is  the  proph- 
ecy of  Micah  fulfilled  to  this  day — “ Therefore  shall  Zion  for 
your  sake  be  plowed  as  a field,  and  Jerusalem  shall  become 
heaps.”  (Micah  iii.  12.) 


516 


THE  HOLY  LAND: 


The  southern  wall  of  the  city,  crossing  from  Mount  Zion  to 
Moriah  to  the  south-east  corner  of  the  cit)’,  is  about  two  thirds 
of  a mile  long,  and  is  the  most  crooked  portion  of  the  city 
wall.  About  three  hundred  yards  from  the  south-west  corner 
of  the  city,  on  the  highest  peak  of  Mount  Zion,  is  the  Zion 
Gate  — sometimes  called  David’s  Gate.  It  is  open  for  use, 
though  not  so  much  frequented  as  the  Joppa,  Damascus,  and 
St.  Stephen’s  gates.  From  the  Zion  Gate  the  wall  makes  four 
abrupt  turns  northward,  running  north-eastward  in  its  trend 
over  three  hundred  yards  to  a small  gate  called  the  Dung 
Gate.  It  is  sometimes  closed;  though  we  found  it  open,  and 
occasionally  passed  iir  and  out  of  it  in  going  to  or  coming 
from  the  Pool  of  Siloam,  over  the  hill  Ophel,  directly  into  the 
city.  Here  the  dirt  has  tilled  up  on  the  inside  of  the  city 
until  it  is  almost  as  high  as  the  wall,  though  the  wall  on  the 
outside  is  thirty  or  forty  feet  high.  In  this  part  of  the  city 
are  extensive  gardens,  in  which  vegetables  are  grown.  There 
were  large  cactuses  and  other  growths,  which  showed  the  soil 
to  be  productive.  From  the  Dung  Gate  the  wall  descends 
Mount  Zion,  crosses  the  Tyropeou  Valley,  and  strikes  the 
•slope  of  Ophel,  about  one  hundred  and  seventy  yards  from  the 
Dung  Gate.  Here  it  bends  at  a right  angle  and  runs  north  up 
Ophel  ninety-eight  yards,  and  turns  at  right  angle  and  runs 
east,  forming  for  about  seven  hundred  and  fourteen  feet  the 
southern  wall  of  the  Ilaram  or  temple  plateau.  Thus  the 
circuit  of  the  cit}’  is  given  by  Conder  at  two  and  three  fourths 
miles,  while  Dr.  INIcGarvey,  agreeing  with  Dr.  Barclay's  esti- 
mate, makes  it  a little  less  than  two  and  a half  miles.  The 
latter  measured  on  the  walls,  while  Conder  probably  meas- 
ured on  the  outside  of  the  walls.  The  style  of  architecture 
and  the  general  construction,  of  the  walls,  and  the  arrange- 
ment as  to  the  streets,  are  no  doubt  much  the  same  as  in  the 
long  ages  past.  Whoever  takes  a journey  around  Jerusalem 
upon  the  wall  of  the  city  will  join  the  psalmist  in  his  praise 
when  he  sings,  “Beautiful  for  situation,  the  joy  of  the  whole 
earth,  is  Mount  Zion,  on  the  sides  of  the  north,  the  city  of 
the  great  King.  God  is  known  in  her  palaces  for  a refuge.” 


STONE-QUARRIES  UNDER  THE  CITY. 


517 


(Psalms  xlviii.  2,  3.)  And  again,  “Walk  about  Zion,  and  go 
round  about  her : tell  the  towers  thereof.  Mark  ye  well  her 
bulwarks,  consider  her  palaces;  that  ye  may  tell  it  to  the 
generations  following.'’  (Psalms  xlviii.  12,  13.) 

The  Jopi>a  Gate  is  the  only  entrance  to  the  city  on  the 
western  side,  while  on  the  south  there  are  two  — Zion  Gate 
on  Mount  Zion  and  the  Dung  Gate.  There  is  one  opem  gate 
on  the  north  — the  Damascus  Gate, — and  St.  Stephen’s  Gate 
on  the  east.  For  many  years,  and  until  recently,  the  gates 
were  all  closed  at  sunset,  and  remained  so  until  the  rising 
of  the  sun.  This  is  not  so  now.  Though  they  are  closely 
guarded,  persons  are  allowed  to  enter  or  pa.ss  out  of  the  city 
at  any  hour  of  the  night.  I went  out  before  daylight  and 
entered  far  in  the  night.  While  the  gate  of  the  heavenly  city 
is  narrow  and  guarded,  as  in  all  eternity  past,  may  it  not  be 
said  that  in  the  nine.teenth  century  the  pathway  to  that  home 
in  the  skies  is  wide  open  all  the  time?  “And  the  gates  of  it 
shall  not  be  shut  at  all  by  day : for  there  shall  be  no  night 
there.”  (Revelation  xxi.  25.) 

One  walking  about  Jerusalem  would  readily  be  led  to  ex- 
claim as  did  the  disciples  to  their  Lord,  “See  what  manner  of 
stones,  and  what  buildings  are  here  ” (Mark  xiii.  1.),  and  nat- 
urally enough  wonders  where  the  stones  were  secured,  as  no 
quarries  appear  as  at  Baalbec  in  Syria.  The  fact  is,  these  stones 
have  largely  been  taken  from  under  the  city,  the  quarry  hav- 
ing been  unknown  until  its  discovery  in  1852  by  Dr.  Barclay, 
who  came  upon  it  in  an  accidental  way.  It  is  the  only  case  in 
wdiich  I have  heard  of  a dog  rendering  service  in  the  discov- 
eries of  the  Holy  Land.  As  the  missionary  was  passing  along 
the  road  north  of  the  city,  his  dog  scented  some  animal  which 
burrowed  in  an  opening  in  the  rock,  and  began  scratching  at 
the  hole.  The  dog  .soon  fell  in,  but  by  and  by  made  his  ap- 
pearance again.  Dr.  Barclay,  anticipating  some  worthy  dis- 
covery, one  afternoon  went  outside  the  city,  and  with  two 
sons  arranged  to  elude  the  Mohammedan’s  eye  by  allowing 
themselves  to  be  shut  out  of  the  city  one  night.  In  the  night 
they  effected  an  entrance  to  the  quarry,  and  with  lights  in 


518 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


liand  explored  it.  It  is  called  Barclay’s  Quarry,  or  the  “ Cot- 
ton Grotto.”  We  spent  a part  of  a half  day  exploring  its 
wonderful  recesses.  It  is  entered  through  a hole  in  the  rock, 
under  the  wall  of  the  city  a few  hundred  feet  east  of  the 
Damascus  Gate.  Having  secured  a guide,  and  being  well 
provided  with  candles,  which  we  lighted  immediately  upon 
creeping  down  into  this  great  cavern,  we  crept,  and  climbed, 
and  walked  for  hundreds  of  feet  in  every  direction.  The  bot- 
tom is  very  uneven,  being  covered  with  stone  chips,  and  at 
places  with  great  rocks  which  have  during  the  ages  fallen 
down  from  above.  Frequent  columns  are  left  standing  to  pre- 
vent the  rocks  from  above  falling  down  in  a mass.  At  places 
we  found  rocks  hanging  almost  ready  to  be  severed  from  the 
ceiling.  Others  at  the  side  are  partially  severed  from  the 
native  rock  by  a channel,  or  curve  six  or  eight  inches  wide, 
and  were  thus  almost  ready  for  removaL  It  is  evident  that 
the  stones  were  quarried  by  thus  cutting  a curve  or  channel 
several  inches  wide  and  inserting  a block  of  wood  which  was 
wet  until  it  expanded  and  sjdit  the  stone  from  the  rock.  Some 
of  the  stones  loosened  in  this  way  lie  in  the  quarry  and  corre- 
spond in  size  and  shape  with  those  used  in  the  substruction 
of  the  Haram  and  city  wall.  This  (juarry  extends  nearly  one 
thousand  feet  toward  the  temple  plateau,  and  is  over  three 
thousand  feet  in  circumference.  At  many  places  the  ceiling 
is  thirty  feet  from  the  floor.  At  one  point  near  the  extremity 
from  the  entrance  is  a spring  which  trickles  down  into  a basin 
in  the  rock  ; but  the  water  is  not  good.  The  rock  is  a soft 
limestone  and  easily  worked,  but  doubtless  becomes  harder 
when  exposed  to  the  atmosphere.  I have  no  doubt  that  from 
this  immense  quany  under  Bezetha,  Solomon  secured  the 
stones  for  the  city  and  temple  of  his  day.  The  Grotto  of  Jere- 
miah lies  in  the  same  rock  immediately  north  of  these  quar- 
ries, and  is  entered  by  an  opening  just  north  on  the  side  of 
the  moat  cut  through  Bezetha,  east  and  west,  in  the  solid  rock. 

It  is  on  the  eminence  just  north  of  the  city  and  a little  way 
east  of  the  Damascus  Gate  that  many  reliable  modern  writers 
locate  “ the  place  of  a skull  ” where  they  crucified  our  Lord 


GOLGOTHA. 


519 


and  Savior.  This  was  probably  tlie  place  of  public  execution. 
Near  it  in  the  fifth  century  stood  a cha})el  to  St.  Stephen, 
marking  the  traditional  jilace  where  he  was  stoned  to  death.  I 
have  carefully  read  many  autliorities  u])on  this  question  and 
am  much  inclined  to  bc'lieve  this  to  be  the  site  of  tlie  cruci- 
fixion rather  than  the  place  where  the  Church  of  the  Holy 
Sepulcher  stands.  This,  however,  has  all  the  force  of  tradi- 
tion against  it.  Yet  we  know  that  the  crucifixion  of  our 
Lord  occurred  without  the  city,  for  the  author  of  Hebrews 
tells  us  that  ‘"Jesus,  also,  that  he  niiglit  sanctify  the  people 
with  his  own  blood,  'suffered  without  the  gate.”  (Hebrews 
xiii.  12.)  Jolm  tells  us  that  “the  place  where  Je.sus  was  cru- 
cified was  nigh  to  the  city.”  (John  xix.  20.)  In  this  region 
north  of  the  city  the  ancient  Jewish  cemeteries  were  located; 
and  if  we  should  look  for  the  ])lace  of  the  crucifixion  near  a 
highway,  near  the  place  of  public  execution,  and  convenient 
to  Joseph’s  new  tomb,  we  should  hardly  find  a jfiaee  answer- 
ing so  fully  to  these  conditions  as  this  knoll  by  the  road  to 
Shechera  north  of  the  city.  Lieutenant  Conder  argues  this 
view  with  great  skill  and  plausibility.  For  some  purpose  we 
are  perhaps  wisely  kept  in  doubt.  The  Church  of  the  Holy 
Sepulcher  has  almost  all  of  the  traditions  in  its  favor  as  the 
place  of  the  burial  of  Christ,  and  his  crutafixion  as  well.  The 
one  argument  against  it  is  its  location  so  near  the  center  of 
the  uj)per  city.  At  present  it  is  far  within  the  wall  of  the 
city,  and  whether  its  site  lay  within  the  wall  of  the  city  of 
Herod  it  is  impossible  to  det(*rmine  without  extended  exca- 
vations, which  the  Mohammedans  will  not  allow.  -lust  where 
the  northern  wall  of  the  city  of  Christ’s  time  was  built  no  one 
can  more  than  conjecture.  C’onjectures  greatly  differ  as  to 
this  location.  At  present  the  belief  of  the  people  accredits  the 
place  of  the  crucifixion  of  Christ  to  the  site  of  the  Holy  Sep- 
ulcher. And  yet  1 can  never  forget  nor  escape  the  feelings 
which  came  to  my  lu  art  again  and  again  as  I walked  over 
the  hill  north  and  east  of  the  Damascus  Gate.  Somehow  it 
seemed  to  me  that  it  was  there  that  my  Lord  was  crucified. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


Streets  of  Jerusalem— Haram  es  Sheriff— Dome  of  the  Rock  — Sacred 
Place  — Praying- Place  of  David —Superstitions  — Dome  of  the  Chain 
— Praying  Before  the  Mosque— Cisterns— Mosque  cl  Aksa  — Cradle 
oi  Christ — Solomon’s  Stables  - Waihng  - Place  of  the  Jews. 


Jerusalem  is  truly  an  oriental  city.  There  is  noth- 
ing  like  it  in  the  world.  It  has  really  only  four 
streets  worthy  of  being  named  as  streets.  Damascus 
^Street  runs  directly  southward  from  the  Damascus  Gate; 

Christian  Street  runs  northward  from  Zion’s  Gate;  David 
1 Street  goes  eastward  from  the  Yaffa  Gate,  and  the  Via 
Dolorosa  (the  way  of  the  cross)  runs  we.stward  from  St.  Ste- 
phen’s Gate,  being  a short  distance  north  of  and  parallel  with 
David  Street.  These  streets  have  frequent  bends  and  are 
narrow  and  filthy.  At  some  places  the  houses  extend  entirely 
over  the  streets.  The  buildings  are  crowded  together,  so  that 
there  is  no  arrangement  for  streets.  Xo  vehicles  are  driven 
or  could  be  driven  throuirh  the  citv.  The  donkeys  and  camels 
have  just  room  enough  to  pass  along  the  lanes  crowded  with 
men,  women,  and  children,  who  sit  in  the  dirt  with  their 
cakes  and  marketing  to  sell.  Yet  there  is  scarcely  a nook  or 
corner  of  this  renowned  city  in  which  one  does  not  find  some- 
thing possessing  thrilling  interest. 

In  the  south-eastern  corner  of  the  citv,  covering  Mount 
Moriah,  is  the  Haram  es  Sheriff  — the  Xob'e  Sanctuary,  or  the 
temple  plateau.  This  plateau  was  formed  by  building  walls 
on  each  side  of  the  rocky  mountain,  and  then  filling  up  low 
places.  This  was  accomplished  in  many  places  by  building  up 
substructions  and  arching  them  over,  leaving  great  caverns 

520 


DOME  OF  THE  ROCK. 


521 


below.  The  southern  portion  of  the  east  wall  of  the  city 
forms  the  eastern  wall  of  this  plateau.  The  surface  of  this 
structure  is  alino.^t  level,  and  at  some  places  the  native  rock 
has  been  cut  away.  The  central  part,  however,  is  somewhat 
elevated  above  the  other.  The  plateau  is  in  the  form  of  an 
irregular  quadrangle,  being  one  thousand  five  hundred  and 
thirty  feet  long  on  the  east  side,  and  one  thousand  six  hun- 
dred and  one  feet  on  the  west,  and  on  the  south  nine  hundred 
and  twenty-two  feet  wide,  and  one  thousand  and  forty-two 
feet  wide  at  the  north  end.  It  contains  not  less  than  thirty- 
five  acres,  and  is  almost  a mile  around  it.  It  is,  all  things 
considered,  the  most  interesting  spot  on  the  globe,  and  em- 
braces the  site  of  the  ancient  Temple  of  Solomon  and  its 
open  court.  It  contains  here  and  there  a few  olive-trees, 
and  a number  of  buildings.  We  secured  a permit  from  the 
government  to  enter  this  sacred  inclosure,  which  costs  about 
one  dollar  per  person,  and  with  a stout  guard  of  soldiers  for 
our  protection  passed  most  of  one  day  visiting  and  inspecting 
this  wonderful  place.  As  we  entered  the  Haram  by  David 
Street,  through  the  cotton  bazaars,  there  lay  before  us  the  vast 
court,  and  a little  way  from  us  the  splendid  building  called 
the  Dome  of  the  Rock — called  also  Kubbet  es  Sakhra.  This  is 
the  most  interesting  building  on  the  Haram.  It  stands  in  the 
center  of  a platform  elevated  nearly  ten  feet  above  the  other 
portions  of  the  plateau.  This  table  or  platform  is  almost  a 
rectangle,  measuring  on  the  east  five  hundred  and  twenty- 
eight  feet,  on  the  west  five  hundred  and  forty-four,  on  the 
south  four  hundred  and  twenty-five,  and  on  the  north  five 
hundred  and  .six  feet.  It  is  paved  entirety  with  smooth  white 
limestone,  while  the  rest  of  the  Haram  is  not.  In  the  north- 
western corner  the  rock  has  been  cut  and  leveled  down  to  its 
present  uniform  plane.  In  the  center  of  this  platform  stands 
the  Dome  cf  the  Rock,  which  covers  the  sacred  rock  upon 
which  it  is  believed  Abraham  offered  Isaac,  and  which  was 
the  thrashing-floor  of  Oman,  in  the  time  of  David.  The 
sacred  rock  occupies  the  center  of  the  building.  It  is  about 
six  and  a half  feet  higher  than  the  platform  all  about  it,  slop- 


522 


CHAIN,  POME  or  THE  BOCK, 


DOME  OF  THE  ROCK. 


523 


ing  lower  tuwiinl  the  etu^t  side.  Thi.s  huge  rock,  the  highest 
point  of  IMuriah,  is  fifty-two  feet  long  and  thirty-eight  feet 
Avide.  The  surface  is  not  Hat,  but  broken  off  somewhat  south 
and  east.  There  is  something  which  awes  one  into  a rever- 
ence for  tlii.s  rock  of  antiquity  when  he  considers  all  the  tra- 
ditions which  worthily  belong  to  it.  ft  was  no  doul)t  included 
in  the  holy  and  beautiful  Temple  of  Solomon,  and  may  have 
been  the  place  of  the  holy  of  holies,  where  rested  the  ark  of 
the  covenant;  Tradition  asserts  that  the  ark  yet  lies  buried 
and  concealed  beneath  this  sacred  rock.  If  this  should  be 
indeed  the  j)lace  of  the  holy  of  holies,  then  upon  this  uneven 
surface  of  rock,  which  has  stood  hei'e  j)reserved  and  venerated 
for  thousands  of  years,  the  feet  of  the  high-priests  stood  before 
the  cherubim  over  the  mercy  seat  and  talked  face  to  face 
with  God.  The  rock  is  now  surrounded  with  a heavy  railing 
to  protect  it  from  any  profane  touch.  The  building  around 
it  has  a double  corridor  with  splendid  ancient  columns.  It  is 
entered  by  a gate  from  each  of  the  cardinal  i)oints  of  the  com- 
pass. Our  illustration  on  the  opposite  page  ju’esents  a sj)lendid 
view  of  this  structure,  which  next  to  the  tem))le  at  Medina  is 
the  most  venerated  of  all  Mohammedan  buildings.  Of  course 
the  Mohammedans  attach  many  traditions  to  this  place. 

The  building  as  shown  in  our  illustration  is  octagonal,  each 
side  being  al)out  sixty-six  feet  long.  Its  height  to  the  dome 
is  about  forty -six  fe(‘t.  The  dome,  which  rises  from  the  sup- 
ports of  pillars,  and  the  double  row  of  columns,  is  ninety- 
seven  feet  high  and  sixty-five  feet  in  diameter.  It  is  of  wood, 
covered  with  lead,  which  looked  upon  from  without  appears 
as  though  it  leaned  slightly  to  the  west.  The  interior  of  the 
building  possesses  real  grandeur,  thoiigh  there  is  less  artistic 
skill  than  one  expects  to  find.  There  is  a circle  of  twelve  col- 
umns around  the  rock  which  support  the  dome.  Out.dde  of 
these  piers  and  columns  is  a sjiace  about  forty-nine  feet  wide 
entirely  surrounding  the  inner  aisle.  In  this  there  is  one 
circle  of  piers  and  columns  supporting  the  outer  portions  of 
the  roof.  Lieutenant  Conder  thinks  this  outer  wall  and 
thirteen  feet  of  the  space  is  an  addition  to  the  building  since 


524 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


its  first  construction.  The  marble  mosaic  floors  and  marble 
columns  of  various  colors,  which  were  once  in  the  Temple  of 
Jupiter,  and  it  may  be  were  long  ago  in  the  Jewish  Temple, 
upon  which  a mellow  light  is  thrown  tlivough  the  shaded 
window,  present  a scene  one  can  never  forget.  There  are  no 
images  here,  but  many  quotations  from  the  Koran,  in  gilded 
letters,  upon  the  walls.  What  a history  this  place  has  shared! 
Once  the  solitary  mountain  to  which  Abraham  came  from  the 
south  to  ofier  up  Isaac  a sacrifice ; once  the  thrashing-floor  of 
Oman,  where  David  built  an  altar  unto  the  Lord  and  offered 
burnt-offerings  and  peace-offerings;  once  the  place  where  Sol- 
omon erected  at  great  cost  under  the  special  direction  of  the 
Lord  the  most  si)lendid  temple  to  our  God  the  world  has  ever 
known.  Here  stood  the  temple  which  the  returned  Hebrews 
built  in  their  poverty  and  their  sorrow,  the  inferiority  of  which 
must  have  added  to  their  pains  as  they  remembered  the  glory 
of  the  former  teinj)le.  On  this  same  site  the  splendor-loving 
Herod  built  the  third  temple  of  magnificence  into  which  our 
Lord  Jesus  so  often  entered.  Here  was  the  altar  of  incense  and 
the  table  of  show-bread.  Forty  years  after  the  time  of  Christ 
this  third  tenii)le  was  burned  and  destroyed ; and  Hadrian, 
the  Roman  emi)eror,  erected  on  this  same  place  an  idol  temple, 
in  which  he  enshrined  a statue  of  Jupiter.  What  otlier  his- 
tory lies  with  its  dim  shadow  over  this  awful  place,  who  can 
tell?  The  Jews  are  not  allowed  to  enter  this  sacred  inclosure, 
though  they  regard  it  as  the  place  where  once  stood  their  holy 
and  beautiful  house  where  their  fathers  worshiped  God.  Yet 
for  more  than  a thousand  years  the  Mohammedans  have  held 
possession  of  this  sacred  place,  with  but  little  interruption. 

There  is  a kind  of  pulpit  erected  at  the  south-east  of  the 
Sacred  Rock,  five  or  six  feet  high,  from  which  a good  view  of 
the  rock  is  obtained.  Close  by  this  pulpit  our  guide  led  the 
way  down  a flight  of  steps  perhaps  six  feet  wide,  into  a cav- 
ern cut  in  the  rock  about  twenty  feet  square.  The  ceiling  is 
of  the  native  Sacred  Rock,  and  about  seven  feet  high,  while 
the  floor  is  handsomely  paved  with  marble.  There  is  around 
marble  slab  near  the  center  of  the  chamber  which  covers  a 


SUPERSTITIONS. 


526 


wall  or  passage,  probably  uii  opening  to  an  aqueduct  or  pas- 
sage from  this  chamber  througli  which  the  blood  and  water 
may  have  been  carried  from  the  temple  court.  Just  above 
this  is  a round  hole  in  the  Sacred  Rock  almost  three  feet  in  di- 
ameter, through  which  Mohammed  is  said  to  have  passed 
when  he  ascended  to  heaven  from  his  ])lace  of  })iayer  in  the 
chamber.  The  rock  wanted  to  attend  him,  and  after  being 
lifted  several  feet  was  caught  by  (iabriel  and  stopped.  The 
prints  of  his  fingers  are  still  shown,  and  the  rock,  by  the  Mo- 
hammedans, is  believed  to  be  suspended  in  the  air  without 
support.  In  this  chamber,  the  real  original  uses  of  which  can 
only  be  conjectured,  there  are  .several  altars  or  prajdng-places 
where  our  guide  solemnly  informed  us  David,  Solomon,  Eli- 
jah, Abraham,  and  Mohammed  once  prayed. 

As  we  Avere  Avalking  through  the  gorgeous  building,  con- 
ducted by  a devout  Mohammedan  guide,  a little  way  from 
the  northern  side  of  the  Sacred  Rock  I discovered  a jasper  slab. 
Our  guide  told  us  that  Mohammed  drove  nineteen  gold  nails 
into  the  slab,  and  that  once  in  a long  time  an  angel  came 
down  and  removed  one  of  the  gold  nails.  M’hen  they  are  all 
gone  then  the  end  of  the  world  will  come.  (There  are  three 
remaining.)  He  also  informed  me  that  any  one  who  deposited 
a piece  of  money  on  any  one  of  the  gold  heads  remaining, 
would  go  to  heaven  sure.  I thought  it  Avise  to  defer  mak- 
ing the  deposit  at  least  long  enough  to  give  the  matter  due 
reflection,  and  concluded  to  try  a little  humor  on  the  priest. 
So,  speaking  through  an  interpreter,  I asked  him  if  persons 
performing  this  duty  Avent  up  immediately,  or  at  any  specific 
time.  The  old  man  smiled,  looked  at  me,  and  then  gazed  up 
at  the  great  dome  and  ansAvered,  “ I guess  there  have  none 
gone  up  yet,  as  I see  there  is  no  hole  in  the  rpof.”  It  is  e\’i- 
dently  a little  trick  practiced  to  get  money  out  of  visitors ; and 
doubtless  many  a poor  soul  suflers  from  the  delusion. 

On  the  east  of  the  Dome  of  the  Rock  is  a small  building 
about  fifteen  feet  in  diameter,  the  same  in  form  as  the  larger 
building.  It  is  called  the  Dome  of  the  Chain.  A very  pretty 
A’ieAV  of  it  is  given  in  our  illustration  on  page  522.  This  little 


526 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


building  is  sometinu's  called  Mchhnict  David's  jjlace  of 

judgment^ — ami  there  are  some  foolish  traditions  attaching  to 
it.  Its  shafts  and  columns  with  their  ba.<cs  are  very  dissimi- 
lar, and  are  doubtless  from  ancient  structures.  The  floor  is  of 
handsome  marble  mosaic  work,  and  on  the  south  side  is  a 
little  ri'cess  for  2>rayer.  It  is  a Mohammedan  ijraying-jilace. 


P:aAYING  BEFORE  THE  MOSQUE  OF  OMAR. 

All  about  on  the  Ilaram  jdatform  I noticed  jiersons  sj)read- 
ingdown  a mat  and  going  through  with  their  prayers  as  de- 
scribed on  page  240.  They  always  removed  their  shoes  if  they 
were  not  already  barefooted,  and  seemed  to  be  very  devout. 

Two  tall  thin  men,  very  black,  followed  us  almost  all  the 
time  as  we  visited  various  places  in  the  Haram,  and  some* 


MOSQUE  EL  AKSA. 


527 


times  beside  us  and  soinelimes  belli ud  us  they  would  get  down 
at  tlieir  prayers.  I thought  possibly  it  was  to  be  “ seen  of 
men ; ” for  they  prayed  at  least  in  half  a dozen  or  more  places, 
as  they  followed  us  slowly  from  place  to  jilace.  Possibly  they 
considered  that  our  company  desecrated  or  jiolluted  the  place, 
and  thfiy  were  sanctifying  it  again. 

Peneath  the  plateau  over  which  we  are  walking  there  are 
vast  numbers  of  cisterns,  some  of  which  are  very  large.  One 
of  them  is  described  by  Captain  Warren  as  being  sixty-three 
feet  long,  fifty-seven  wide,  and  fort\'-two  feet  dec}).  The  same 
indefatigable  ex})lorer,  to  whom  an  endlc.ss  debt  of  gratitude 
is  due,  found  and  examined  not  less  than  thirty-three  of  these 
cisterns  beneath  this  teni})le  plateau.  A still  larger  cistern, 
found  in  the  southern  part  of  the  Ilaram,  and  close  by  the 
Mosque  el  Aksa,  the  water  from  the  roof  of  which  runs  into 
it,  is  about  forty-two  feet  deej)  and  seven  hundred  and  forty 
feet  in  circumference.  It  is  called  the  Royal  Cistern,  and,  I 
believe,  was  first  discovered  by  Dr.  Barclay.  The  roof  of 
native  rock  is  su})ported  by  pillars  of  the  original  rock,  left 
standing  when  the  cistern  was  prepared.  On  the  southern 
pt)rtion  of  this  tem})le  }>lateau  or  Ilaram  stands  the  Mosque  el 
Aksa  (mosque  far  away — from  Mecca),  dating  back  in  its  foun- 
dation to  the  time  of  -Justinian,  who  here  built  a Christian 
church  in  honor  of  the  Virgin  Mary.  It  is  a huge  and  com- 
plex building,  which  shows  great  antiquit}’.  It  was  first  a 
church,  then  a mosque;  then  the  Crusaders  converted  it  to  a 
church,  eight  hundred  years  ago;  hut, it  became  a mosque  one 
hundred  years  later.  The  stones  in  its  subterranean  parts" 
exhibit  the  ancient  Phnenician  art.  It  retains  much  of  the 
ancient  basilica  form.  The  entire  building  is  two  hundred 
and  seventy  feet  long  and  one  hundred  and  ninety-eight  feet 
w’ide.  The  material  is  of  all  kinds,  and  shows  that  it  also 
came  from  temples  and  structures  which  had  yielded  to  de- 
.struction  before  its  erection.  Some  of  the  })recious  contents 
are  beautiful  indeed;  some  of  the  paintings  are  miserable. 
There  has  long  been  a foolish  superstition  that  whoever 
should  pass  between  two  monolith  columns  of  stone,  about 


528 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


ten  inches  apart,  standing  in  this  mosque  -would  surely  go  to 
heaven.  This  has,  in  the  centuries,  been  the  occasion  of  thou- 
sands and  millions  of  persons  jrressing  between  these  columns. 
They  have  thus  been  continually  scraped  until  not  less  than 
two  or  three  inches  of  the  stones  have  been  Avorn  away.  IMany 
a fat  pilgrim  has  S(j[ueezed  hard  to  get  through  this  narrow 
place,  Avith  the  hope  of  eternal  bliss.  Xoav  all  such  hopes  are 
blasted,  for  a great  iron  frame-Avork  has  been  erected  in  those 
passes  so  that  none  may  jiass  that  Avay. 

Perhaps  the  most  interesting  substructions  of  the  temple 
plateau  are  beneath  its  soutli-eastern  corner.  Descending  a 
narroAV  tiiglit  of  steps,  tliirty-two  in  number,  Ave  Avere  at  a 
small  Mo.dem  oratory,  or  praying- place,  called  “The  Cradle 
of  Christ,'’  from  a niche  in  the  stone  Avail.  It  is  said  that 
anciently  .JeAvish  Avomeu  resorted  here  in  expected  birth  of 
children,  and  remained  until  the  presentation  of  the  child  in 
the  Temple.  The  story  is  that  this  is  the  dAvelling- place  of 
Simeon,  ami  here  the  Virgin  and  her  holy  Child  abode  for  a 
time  Avlien  Christ  Avas  jiresented  in  the  Temple.  Soon  we 
Avere  in  the  great  vaults  called  “ Solomon's  Stables.”  There 
are  no  less  than  one  hundred  scpiare  piers,  built  up  of  ancient 
tlrafted  stones,  which  support  the  semi-circular  vaults  aboA'e, 
near  thirty  feet  from  the  floor.  To  Avhat  uses  these  A'ast  cham- 
bers, once  called  Solomon's  Staldes,  have  been  su1)jected  no 
one  can  tell.  Xo  dould  tlicA*  haA'e  often  been  tbe  sheltering:- 
place  of  the  inhabitants  of  .Terusalem  in  its  times  of  Avar  and 
destruction.  These  great  drafted  stones  forming  the  hundred 
pillars  Avhich  sup])ort  the  massive  stones  and  floors  aboA^e, 
however  removed  in  the  later  ages  and  placed  in  new  posi- 
tions, tell  the  story  of  olden  limes.  I haA’e  not  time  nor  space 
to  Avrite  of  much  Avhich  attracts  the  closest  attention  here,  nor 
of  the  many  foolish  legends  and  traditions  told  to  one  as  he 
travels  shoeless  over  these  cold  floors,  guarded  by  soldiers  from 
the  fanatical  Mohammedans,  .«ome  of  Avhom  folloAv  menac- 
ingly and  others  of  Avhom  fall  on  their  knees  here  and  there 
and  go  through  their  prayers.  There  are  A'arious  other  smaller 
substructions  here,  and  other  rude  buildings  in  the  plateau. 


\YAITANG-PLACE  OF  THE  JEWS.  529 

but  to  visit  them  would  require  a more  tedious  journey  than 
the  reader  Avould  he  willing  to  undertake. 

The  we.st  wall  of  this  Ilarum  or  temjde  plateau  on  the  out- 
side or  west  side  is  the  “ Wailing- Place  of  the  Jews,”  who 
every  day  sit  in  mournful  sorrow,  bemoaning  the  desolation 
of  the  house  of  their  God.  Our  illustration  presents  a verw 
good  view  of  the  place*  and  of  tlie  mournful  scene.  The  wall 
for  a distance  bt  one  hundred  and  lifty-six  feet,  and  more 


wailing-place  of  the  jews  at  jekusalem. 
than  fifty  feet  high,  shows  great  antiepiity.  The  nine  lower 
courses  of  stone  are  of  huge  size.  Some  of  th(*.se  blocks  of 
stone  are  over  sixteen  feet  long  and  five  or  six  feet  thick. 
The  old  buildings  forming  the  west  side  of  the  street  stand 
some  distance  off,  leaving  a narrow  street  about  fourteen  feet 
■R  ide.  This  little  street  is  reached  by  a dirtv  alley  from  David 
Street.  The  largest  company  of  mourners  here  is  to  be  seen 
on  every  Friday  afternoon.  Then  there  are  from  one  hundred 

34 


530 


THE  HOLY  LAXD. 


and  fifty  to  two  hundred  peiiioii:!.  Old  men  and  old  women, 
young  men  and  maidens,  chant  solemn  songs  and  read  mourn- 
fully over  their  old  Hehrew  ])rayei-hooks.  How  solemn  the 
words  on  their  lips  as  they  mourn  the  desolation  of  Zion ! 
Zion  is  a wilderness;  Jerusalem  a desolation.  “Our  holy  and 
our  beautiful  house,  where  our  fathers  piaised  thee,  is  burned 
up  with  fire:  and  all  our  pleasant  things  are  laid  waste.’’ 
(Isaiah  Ixiv.  11.)  “0  God,  the  lieatheii  are  come  into  thine 

inheritance;  thy  holy  tom])le  have  they  defiled;  they  have 
hiid  Jerusalem  on  h(*aps.”  “We  are  become  a reproach  to  our 
neighbors,  a scorn  and  derision  to  tlieiii  that  are  round  about 
us.”  “0  remember  not  against  us  former  ini<|uities:  let  thy 
tender  mercies  speedily  ])revent  us;  for  we  are  brought  very 
low.”  (Psalms  l.Kxix.  1,  4,  and  8.)  The.se  people  seem  to  expe- 
rience a bitter  sorrow,  as  they  kiss  often  these  stones  made 
wet  by  their  tears,  and  pray  that  peace  and  jo}'  may  abide  at 
Jerusalem,  and  the  branch  .spring  up  out  of  Zion.  I shall 
never  forget  the  peculiar  emotion  experienced  as  T watched 
this  strange  and  weird  ceremony.  Some  of  the  women  ap- 
peared very  young,  while  others  were  quite  aged.  The  men 
were  mostly  advj^nced  in  years,  with  a grave  countenance  and 
a manly,  oriental  bearing.  No  one  of  their  number  seemed  to 
be  at  all  disturbed  by  the  presence  of  stranger.s.  ^lant'  of 
them  were  poorly  dres.sed,  and  I supposed  were  from  the  poorer 
class  of  Jews  in  Jerusalem.  The  men  and  women  seated  on 
the  ground  would  go  on  reading  mournfully  from  their  books, 
in  a sing-song  tone,  moving  their  head  and  body  backward 
and  forward  in  a regular  seesaw  movement.  Then  a number 
Avould  rise  and  join  those  tvho  stood  by  the  wall  and  there 
kiss  the  century -beaten  .stone,  while  the  tears  now  and  again 
coursed  down  over  their  cheeks.  Some  were  seated  close 
beside  the  wall,  while  others  were  on  the  other  side  of  the 
alley.  I found  my  heart  strangely  touched.  Just  above  and 
north-east  from  them  is  the  place  where  once  stood  the  holy 
Temple  of  the  Lord,  now  occupied  by  a Mohammedan  mosque. 
The  nation  of  Abraham  is  scattered  to  the  ends  of  the  earth 
for  its  sin  in  rejecting  the  Lord’s  Anointed,  the  Son  of 


WAILING-PLACK  OF  THE  ,1EWS. 


631 


David,  and  yvt  these  are  nioiirnfully  looking  for  the  coining 
of  the  Messiah  and  the  restoration  of  the  glory  of  former  times. 

Biedeker  says  that  on  certain  days  toward  (‘vening  they 
perforin  a kind  of  chant,  which  he  renders  as  follows: 

For  the  place  that  lies  de.solate, 

We  sit  in  solitude  and  mourn. 

For  the  palace  that  is  destroyed, 

We  sit  in  solitude  and  mourn. 

For  the  walls  that  are  overthrown, 

We  sit  in  solitude  and  mourn. 

For  our  majesty  I hat  i.s  departed, 

We  sit  in  solitude  and  mourn, 
h'or  our  great  men  wlio  are  dead. 

We  sit  in  solitude  and  mourn. 

For  the  precious  stones  that  are  burned. 

We  sit  in  solitude  and  mourn. 

For  the  priests  who  have  stumbled. 

We  sit  in  solitude  and  mourn. 

For  our  kings  who  have  despised  Him, 

We  sit  in  solitude  and  mourn. 

Every  alternate  line  is  read  by  a leader,  and  the  people  fol- 
low with  the  words,  “ We  sit  in  solitude  and  mourn.”  On 
another  occasion  they  use  the  following  litany,  also  in  a re- 
sponsive chant : 

We  pray  thee,  have  mercy  on  Zion ; 

Gather  the  children  of  Jerusalem; 

May  beauty  and  majesty  surround  Zion ; 

Ah  ! Turn  thyself  mercifully  to  Jerusalem. 

Haste,  haste.  Redeemer  of  Zion ; 

Speak  to  the  heart  of  Jerusalem. 

May  thy  kingdom  soon  return  to  Zion; 

Comfort  those  who  mourn  over  Jerusalem. 

May  pe'ace  and  joy  abide  in  Zion ; 

And  the  branch  [of  Jesse]  spring  up  at  Jerusalem. 

These  mournful  cries  are  but  as  the  lowing  of  the  cattle. 
The  Jews  rejected,  and  continually  crucify,  the  Son  of  God,  by 
whose  intercession  and  merit  alone  they  might  come  to  the 
Father  and  be  healed  of  their  sorrow.  Thus  do  we  learn  the 
world-wide  love  of  God,  which  embraced  first  the  Jewish 
nation  in  a special  covenant  in  order  that  he  might  show 
himself  in  all  his  fullness  to  all  nations  of  men  when  the 


532 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


fullness  of  time  was  come.  And  still  may  we  not  hojic  that 
the  sorrow  of  this  once-chosen  people  of  God  shall  wear  itself 
out  and  break  them  down,  and  that  some  newer  and  fuller 
manifestation  of  Christ  to  the  Avorld  shall  convince  them  that 
Jesus  was  and  is  the  Messiah,  and  they  yet  be  gathered  into 
the  divine  fold. 

This  temple  plateau  was  doubtless  connected  with  INIount 
Zion  by  bridges  and  sidendid  walks.  Quite  south  of  the 
Jews’  Wailing- Place  is  what  is  known  as  Robinson’s  Arch  — 
named  after  the  discoverer.  These  archcvs,  which  have  their 
beginning  in  the  wall  of  the  temple  plateau,  were  discovered 
lying  fallen  in  the  Tyropeon  Valley,  now  covered  many  feet 
in  the  dchris.  Dr.  Robin.son  found  them  by  excavations  sixty 
feet  below  the  point  from  which  the  arch  starts.  Dr.  Wilson 
also  discovered  a similar  arch  farther  north.  These  bridges 
are  supposed  to  belong  to  the  time  of  Herod;  but  it  is  argued 
well  and  believed  by  explorers  that  other  like  bridges  spanned 
this  deep  Tyropean  Valle}'  in  the  times  of  Solomon.  There 
seems  to  be  evident  allusion  to  this  in  the  account  of  what 
Avas  beheld  by  the  queen  of  Sheba,  who  was  attracted  to  Jeru- 
salem by  the  fame  of  Solomon;  for  she  saw  the  “ house  that 
he  had  built,  and  his  ascent  by  Avhieh  he  Avent  up  into  the 
house  of  the  Lord,”  and  Avas  so  affected  by  these  things  that 
‘‘there  Avas  no  more  spirit  in  her.”  (1.  Kings  x.  l-o.)  This 
“ascent”  Avas  doubtless  a royal  passage  across  the  valley  to 
the  Holy  Temple. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


Via  Dolorosa  — Pool  of  Bethesda  — Tower  of  Antonia  — Pilate’s  House — 
Arch  of  Pilate  — Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulcher — Stone  of  Anoint- 
ment— Holy  Sepulcher  — Rent  Rock  — Chapel  of  St.  Helena — Find- 
ing of  the  Cross — Sacred  Pillar — Tomb  of  Adam  — Pilgrims — Holy 
Fire  — Pool  of  Hezekiah  — Armenian  Monastery  — Tomb  of  David  — 
Lepers  — Synagogue — Bazaars  — Hospital  of  St.  John  — Lady  Riding 
a Donkey  — Money-Changers  — Arab  Quarrel. 


HE  most  interesting  street  in  Jerusalem,  and  the  one 
regarded  with  more  superstitious  reverence  than  any 
or  all  others,  is  the  Via  Dolorosa,— i\\e  Way  of  the 
Cross.  If  you  are  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  city,  or 
outside  the  city  in  the  Valley  of  Kedron,  it  is  well  to 
enter  through  St.  Stephen’s  Gate,  which  leads  into  the 
Via  Dolorosa,  through  a narrow  street  leading  southward  about 
sixty  steps  to  a gate  entering  the  Haram.  Not  wishing  to 
enter  the  Haram,  w'e  turn  to  the  right  at  the  Pool  of  Bethesda, 
which  is  just  north  of  the  Haram  or  temple  plateau.  This 
is  the  largest  pool  or  reservoir  within  the  city  walls,  though 
it  does  not  now  contain  Avater.  It  is  almo.st  seventy  feet  lower 
than  the  Haram  just  south  of  it,  and  occupies  a deep  valley 
or  fissure  in  the  rock,  originally  separating  Moriah  from  Be- 
zetha.  It  is  called  Birlcit  Israil  — Pool  of  Israel.  At  its  east 
end  there  is  only  a narroAv  street  between  this  pool  and 
the  city  wall.  The  Via  Dolorosa  runs  on  its  northern  side. 
The  length  of  the  pool  from  the  east  westAvard  is  three  hun- 
dred and  sixty  feet,  and  its  width  one  hundred  and  thirty 
feet,  with  a neck  at  its  south-west  end  forty-two  feet  wide, 
extending  one  hundred  and  forty  feet  farther,  making  the 

length  of  the  southern  side  of  the  pool  five  hundred  feet.  It 

533 


534 


THE  HOJ.Y  LAND. 


contains  over  one  acre,  and  originally  had  a depth  of  eighty 
feet.  It  is  said  by  Captain  Warren  to  have  a solid  cement  bot- 
tom, and  openings  twenty-live  feet  from  the  bottom  for  emp- 
tying it,  and  steps  by  which  the  water  could  he  reached 
through  a passage  from  the  Haram  plateau.  It  is  now  three 
fourths  full  of  earth  and  debris  from  the  city.  When  I visited 
it  several  times  men  and  hoj’s  were  carryhrg  dirt  in  hopper- 
like ba.'^kets,  liung  over  the  hacks  of  donkeys,  and  empty- 
ing it  into  this  interesting  2)Ool.  It  was  probably  supplied 
with  water  from  the  Pools  of  Solomon  below  Bethlehem  by 
means  of  an  a(iueduct.  It  is  stated  by  Dr.  Ridgeway  that 
a few  years  ago  an  English  gentleman,  Mr.  iMaudsley,  pro- 
po.'^ed  to  clean  out  and  restore  the  pool  at  his  own  exjrense, 
but  the  silly,  superstitious,  dirt-loving  Turkish  authorities 
denied  him  permission  to  do  so.  It  is  highly  ])robable  that 
this  pool  was  once  a moat  as  well  as  pool,  protecting  the 
Tower  of  Antonia,  which  doubtless  stood  beside  it. 

The  evangelist  tells  u.s,  “There  is  at  .Ieru.«alem  b}"  the 
sheep-market  a })Ool,  which  is  called  in  the  Hebrew  tongue 
Bethesda,  having  five  porches.”  (-lohn  v.  '>.)  But  we  can  not 
with  certainty  identify  this  ])ool  with  that  one  at  which  Jesus 
healed  the  impotent  man  -who  had  an  infirmity  thirty-eight 
years.  And  yet  it  is  possible  that  it  was  somewhere  near  here 
that  this  notable  miracle  was  wrought.  West  of  the  pool, 
between  the  Via  Dolorosa  and  the  Haram,  is  a mass  of  build- 
ings occupied  as  barracks  for  Turkish  soldiers.  This  is  gen- 
erally conceded  to  be  the  site  of  the  “castle,”  or  Tower  of 
Antonia,  in  which  Paul  was  confined  a prisoner.  (Acts  xxi. 
34;  xxii.  24.)  Here  it  is  believeil  were  the  Roman  head- 
rpiarters  and  residence  of  Pilate  at  the  time  of  the  arrest  and 
trial  of  our  Lord  Jcsu.s.  On  the  northern  side  of  the  street 
and  at  the  west  end  of  the  Turkish  soldiers'  quarters  is  a 
Roman  convent  — a Catholic  school  for  girls.  It  is  shown  as 
the  tallest  building  in  our  illustration  to  the  right  of  the 
street.  From  it  is  seen  extending  an  arch,  called  “Pilate’s 
Arch,”  from  a tradition  that,  it  was  under  its  span  that 
“Jesus  came  forth,  wearing  the  crown  of  thorns,  and  the 


VIA  DOLOROSA. 


535 


purple  robe,’’ while  Pilate  exclaimed  “Acce  i/omo ” — ‘‘Behold 
the  man!”  (John  xix.  5.)  The  arch  has  been  shown  for  the 
last  four  hundred  years,  hut  its  real  origin  is  unknown. 
This  Via  Dolorosa  is  held  to  he  the  same  street  uj)  wliich  Christ 
passed  from  Pilate's  judgment-hall  to  the  place  of  crucifixion; 
and  not  less  than  fourteen  sacred  places  are  pointed  out,  all 
connected  with  that  sorrowful  journey  to  the  cross.  There  is 


VIA  DOLOROSA,  AND  ARCH  OF  PILATE. 

something  deep!}'  affecting  in  all  this.  Sometimes,  however, 
the  thought  and  the  heart  are  hurled  hack  as  by  a tide  when 
it  is  remembered  that  this  street  must  be  from  thirty  to  fifty 
feet  above  the  one  over  which  Jesus  bore  his  cross  to  Calvary, 
and  that  traditions  have  often  changed  the  location  of  these 
sacred  places.  Still,  your  guide  will  point  out  the  spot  where 
the  cross  was  taken  from  Christ's  shoulder  and  placed  on 


536 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


Simon,  a C}'renian  (Luke  xx.  26),  the  places  where  Christ  fell 
under  the  burden  of  tlie  cross  the  first  and  also  the  second 
time,  and  the  location  where  other  events  occurred  in  the  Sav- 
ior’s path  of  pain. 

From  the  Arch  of  Pilate  the  Via  Dolorosa  descends  for  a con- 
siderable distance,  crossing  the  de{)ression  or  Tyrojieon  Valley 
between  Bezetha  and  Akra.  At  the  lowest  point  it  follows 
the  valley  southward' for  a short  distance,  when  it  angles  to 
the  west  up  Akra,  crosses  Damascus  Street,  and  continues 
westward  through  the  city.  In  this  course  as  it  ascends  the 
hill  it  passes  the  “Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulcher,’’  the  tradi- 
tional site  of  the  crucifixion  and  burial  of  our  Lortl.  The 
entrance  is  through  an  open  court  on  the  south,  as  shown  in 
our  illustration  on  page  538.  This  court  is  always  occupied 
by  large  numbers  of  persons.  Men  and  women  sit  all  the 
day  with  beads,  cups,  rings,  and  indeed  all  kinds  of  trinkets, 
made  of  olive-wood,  ivory,  peaii,  etc.,  which  they  sell  to  vis- 
itors. Many  of  these  things  are  of  real  beauty,  and  are  sold 
for  small  sums  and  taken  to  all  parts  of  the  world. 

Lieutenant  Conder  as  he  approaches  a description  of  this 
place  says,  “It  is  a grim  and  wicked  old  building  that  we  now 
approach.  Perhaps  no  other  edifice  has  been  directly  the 
cau.se  of  more  human  misery,  or  defiled  with  more  blood. 
There  are  those  who  would  willingly  look  upon  it  as  the  real 
place  of  the  Savior’s  tomb;  but  I confess  that  for  myself, 
having  twice  witnessed  the  annual  orgy  which  disgraces  its 
walls,  the  annual  imi)osture  which  is  countenanced  by  its 
prie.sts,  and  the  fierce  emotions  of  sectarian  hate  and  blind 
fanaticism  which  are  called  forth  by  the  supposed  miracle, 
and  remembering  the  tale  of  blood  connected  with  the  history 
of  the  church,  I should  be  loath  to  think  that  the  sacred  tomb 
had  been  a witness  for  so  many  years  of  so  much  human 
ignorance,  folly,  and  crime.” 

It  is  not  within  the  scope  of  these  pages  to  discuss  the  ques- 
tion as  to  whether  or  not  this  incloses  the  real  tomb  of  Christ. 
The  reader  will  find  on  page  519  an  allusion  to  the  perplexi- 
ties of  that  interesting  question. 


CHURCH  OF  THE  HOLY  SEPULCHER. 


537 


The  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulcher  attracts  more  visitors 
than  any  place  in  Jerusalem.  It  occupies  the  reputed  site  of 
the  crucifixion  of  our  Lord,  and  the  tomb  in  which  he  was 
buried.  The  present  building,  greatly  improved  and  changed, 
was  erected  by  the  Crusaders  nearly  eight  hundred  years  ago. 
It  is  a vast  structure,  with  numerous  chapels,  which  are 
divided  between  the  Greeks,  Latins,  and  Armenians.  The 
building  is  an  antiquated,  orderless  structure,  about  two  hun- 
dred and  thirty  feet  long  from  east  to  west  and  two  hundred 
feet  from  north  to  south.  Covering  the  spot  v/hich  the  Chris- 
tians, at  least  from  the  fourth  century,  recognized  as  the 
sepulcher  of  Christ,  it  at  once  becomes,  to  say  the  least,  ven- 
erable with  hallowed  memories.  Constantine  fixed  upon  this 
location,  as  is  well  shown  by  various  connecting  links  of 
history,  down  through  the  fifth,  sixth,  seventh,  and  eighth 
centuries.  The  Crusaders  erected  the  present  building  upon 
the  site  of  former  structures,  about  A.  D.  1100.  This  building 
was  largely  destroyed  by  fire  in  A.  D.  1808;  but  the  southern 
portion  is  believed  to  be  a part  of  the  Crusaders’  structure. 
Upon  entering  the  sacred  place  by  the  large  portal  from  the 
court,  the  first  object  shown  is  the  “Stone  of  Anointment,” 
on  which  it  is  said  the  body  of  Christ  was  laid  when  it  was 
anointed  by  Nicodemus.  It  is  a yellowish  marble  slab  about 
eight  and  one  half  feet  long  and  four  feet  broad.  The  stone 
is  flanked  by  great  candles,  which  reach  far  toward  the  roof. 
Priests  and  pilgrims  kiss  the  stone  in  passing.  Many  of  these 
superstitious  persons  secure  cotton  cloth  which  they  touch  to 
the  stone,  or  measure  by  its  size,  and  carry  away  to  be  pre- 
served for  their  wdnding-sheet.  Passing  from  this  anteroom 
you  enter  at  once  into  the  rotunda  of  this  strange  clump  of 
buildings  and  are  under  the  great  dome,  as  seen  in  our  splen- 
did illustration  on  page  538.  The  dome  is  sixty-five  feet  in 
diameter.  In  this  chamber,  directly  under  the  dome,  is  the 
Chapel  of  the  Holy  Sepulcher,  a structure  of  white  marble, 
twenty-six  feet  long,  seventeen  feet  wide,  and  fifteen  feet  high, 
within  which  is  the  sepulcher.  Our  illustration  presents  it 
to  the  eye  in  a most  effective  manner.  Its  walls  are  elabo- 


CHURCH  OF  THE  HOLY  SEPULCHER. 


538 


THE  HOLY  SEPULCHER. 


539 


rutely  carved,  and  all  about  are  lamps  of  silver  and  gold  kept 
constantly  burning.  In  front  of  it  are  marble  candlesticks, 
in  -which  huge  candles  stand  in  stately  order.  Passing  by 
those  candles,  and  through  the  open  door,  we  were  in  a room 

sixteen  feet  long 
and  ten  feet  wide, 
called  the  Chapel 
of  the  Angels,  be- 
cause it  is  said  to 
contain  a part  of 
the  stone  rolled 
away  from  the 
tomb  of  Christ  l>y 
the  heavenly  vis- 
itors. The  walls 
are  of  marble, 
and  it  is  liglited 
by  fifteen  lamps, 
five  of  which 
l>elong  to  the 
Greeks,  five  to 
tlie  Latins  or 
Catholics,  four  t<> 
THE  HOLT  SEPULCHER.  tliG  Armenians, 

and  one  to  the  Copts.  Through  a low  door  we  entered  a 
still  smaller  room,  the  Chapel  of  the  Se])ulcher,  which  is  almost 
square',  being  six  and  one  half  feet  by  six  feet.  From  the  low 
ceiling  forty-three  golden  lamps  are  suspended.  On  the  north 
side  is  a marble  altar,  the  slab  of  wliich  is  said  to  cover  the 
rock  which  formed  a part  of  the  tomb  of  the  Savior.  This 
altar  is  about  five  feet  l)y  two,  and  three  feet  high.  This 
entire  cluqiel  and  the  Chapel  of  the  Angels  is  a structure 
within  the  other  building.  In  this  little  chapel,  lighted  by 
golden  lani])s,  which  lend  a charm  of  glory  mingled  with 
shadowy  gloom,  the  pilgrim  believes  that  he  stands  beside 
the  tomb  of  Christ,  as  did  Mary  of  old,  who  wept,  saying, 
“They  have  taken  away  my  Lord,  and  I know  not  where 


540 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


they  have  laid  him.”  (John  xx.  13.)  As  I entered  the  cham- 
ber some  monks  were  rising  from  their  knees  beside  the  tomb 
of  Christ.  It  was  with  emotions  such  as  I had  not  before 
experienced  that  I stood  in  that  sacred  place.  All  about 
were  superstitious  worshipers,  who  all  the  time  were  coming 
and  going,  bowing  and  worshiping  in  this  chamber.  They 
jOf  course  shared  none  of  my  doubts  about  the  genuineness 
lof  this  location.  They  felt  possibly  none  of  the  oppression  of 
superstition  which  fills  every  department  of  the  Church  of  the 
Holy  Sepulcher.  They  were  more  devout  than  it  was  possible 
for  my  undisciplined  heart  to  be.  So,  with  commingled  feel- 
ings of  wonder,  belief,  and  love,  and  mental  revolting,  I came 
and  went,  but  with  a reverent  tread.  Upon  a second  visit  to 
the  same  spot,  as  I saw  others  bowing  down  before  this  reputed 
tomb  of  Christ,  I found  my  heart  overcome,  and  with  the  rest 
I knelt  beside  the  marble  altar  as  one  kneels  beside  the  tomb 
of  a loved  one  dead,  but  with  a heart  yearning  not  for  the 
dead  but  for  the  living  Christ,  knowing  that  “he  is  not  here: 
for  he  is  risen”  (Matthew  xxviii.  6),  and  “hath  ascended  on 
high.” 

In  a room  about  fifteen  feet  above  the  floor-level  of  the  chapel 
of  the  tomb  are  several  chapels,  reached  by  steps,  which  are 
called  Golgotha,  or  Mount  Calvary.  The  room  in  the  south- 
eastern part  of  this  structure  may  be  upon  a natural  rock; 
but  I could  not  tell.  In  one  of  these  chapels  it  is  said  the 
cross  was  rai.sed  and  Christ  crucified.  This  room  is  over  forty 
feet  long  and  fourteen  and  a half  feet  wide.  In  one  apse  of 
the  room  is  a silver  casing  around  a hole  in  the  rock,  which 
it  is  asserted  is  the  socket  in  which  the  cross  of  Christ  was 
•fastened.  About  five  feet  distant  are  shown  the  places  where 
the  crosses  of  the  two  thieves  were  erected.  Near  by  is  shown 
a rock  with  a long  rent  in  it,  said  to  have  been  occasioned  by 
the  earthquake  at  the  time  of  the  crucifixion  of  Christ.  (John 
xvii.  51.)  This  rent  is  said  to  penetrate  to  the  center  of  the 
earth.  There  are  numerous  other  chapels  in  the  building, 
each  one  being  dedicated  to  some  event  connected  with  our 
Lord’s  crucifixion  or  with  the  memory  and  burial  of  some 


TOMB  OF  ADAM. 


541 


illustrious  saint.  Far  below  the  level  of  the  rotunda,  six- 
teen feet  below  the  level  of  the  sepulcher,  is  the  Chapel  of 
St.  Helena,  sixty-five  by  forty-two  feet.  Thirteen  steps  below 
it  is  the  Chapel  of  the  “Finding  of  the  Cross,”  a cavern  in  the 
solid  rock,  about  twenty-four  feet  square  and  sixteen  feet  to 
the  ceiling,  where  it  is  asserted  Helena  found  the  identical 
cross  of  Christ.  In  this  chamber  is  a bronze  statue  of  St.  He- 
lena, life-size,  holding  up  the  new-found  cross. 

I can  not  take  the  reader  from  one  cha])el  to  another  with- 
out introducing  him  to  sirperstition  in  its  most  glaring  incon- 
sistencies. In  one  chapel  is  shown  the  column  to  which  the 
Savior  was  chained  before  his  crucifixion.  Through  an  open- 
ing you  can  look  in  and  see  it.  I saw  a number  of  pilgrims 
take  a stick  kept  there  for  the  purpose,  and  jmt  it  in  tlie 
oj>ening  until  tlie  end  of  the  stick  touched  the  |)illar,  and 
then  draw  the  stick  out  and  kiss  it  with  holy  reverence  where 
it  had  touched  the  stone.  It  is  of  a grajdsh  color,  and  over  a 
foot  in  diameter,  and  much  resembles  a stone  said  to  be  a part 
of  the  same  column  in  a small  Greek  church  in  Constantino- 
ple, which  I was  there  allowed  to  examine  more  thoroughly. 

There  are  reliefs  in  the  marble  and  jnctures  in  the  various 
chapels  and  parts  of  the  church,  which  are  the  purchase  of 
the  wealth  of  popes,  bishops,  and  kings.  The  chapel  under 
the  dome  is  surrounded  with  chapcds  built  to  the  honor  of 
many  saints.  Here  are  the  tombs  of  Adam,  and  of  number- 
less saints  and  holy  men.  With  utter  disregard  to  all  history 
and  fact,  they  have  filled  this  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulcher 
with  all  manner  of  traditions  and  superstitions  which  out- 
herod  Herod.  I spent  much  time  here,  and  all  with  deep 
interest,  often  made  to  lament  that  these  people  have  even 
eclipsed  the  Mohammedans  with  their  many  superstitious, 
impossible  stories.  And  yet  withal  it  is  a sacred  place. 

In  this  church  is  annually  enacted  one  of  the  most  disgrace- 
ful farces  and  frauds  ever  practiced  in  the  name  of  religion. 
It  occurs  at  the  Easter  season,  when  thousands  of  pilgrims 
from  Russia  and  other  places  are  in  the  Holy  City.  Lieuten- 
ant Conder,  who  twice  witnessed  this  ceremony  of  fire  de- 


542 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


scending  from  heaven,  describes  it  in  a most  graphic  manner. 
From  his  thrilling  account  I gather  a few  facts.  The  day 
before  the  so-called  “ Holy  Fire”  the  rotunda  about  the  Chapel 
of  the  Angels  and  Tomb  of  Christ  is  crowded  for  many  hours 
by  infatuated  pilgrims.  Here  they  join  in  chants,  thronging 
the  entire  church  by  thousands,  until  the  Greek  patriarch, 
who  is  concealed  within  the  Chapel  of  the  Angels,  passes 
out  to  the  throng  a' blazing  torch,  jnst  lighted  with  fire 
caught  from  heaven.  The  throng  light  their  tapers,  providetl 
for  the  occasion,  from  this  lighted  torch  and  thrust  their 
hands  into  the  flame  of  the  tapers  and  scorch  their  heads 
and  burn  their  clothing,  under  the  sup])usition  that  it  will  be 
the  occasion  of  great  good  to  them.  This  practice  has  been 
kept  up  for  the  last  six  hundred  years,  though  the  Catholics 
abandoned  their  part  in  the  superstitious  fraud  two  centuries 
ago.  It  is  said  that  as  many  as  twenty  thousand  pilgrims 
visit  the  city  at  this  season,  ten  thousand  of  whom  crowd 
into  the  dittei’ent  parts  of  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulcher. 

A little  Ava}'  south-west  from  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepul- 
cher, and  a little  Avay  north  of  David  Street,  running  east 
from  the  Joppa  Gate,  is  the  Pool  of  Hezekiah,  incased  between 
the  Avails  of  the  Copt  convent  and  Avails  of  houses,  Avhich 
almost  surround  it.  It  is  tAvo  hundred  and  forty  feet  long, 
one  hundred  and  forty-four  Avide,  and  ten  feet  deep  below  the 
level  of  the  street.  Its  Avater  is  not  much  used  excejfl  for  bath- 
ing purj)oses.  An  acjueduct  from  the  upper  Pool  of  Gibon  (see 
page  505)  supplies  this  pool,  long  named  after  Hezekiah  from 
the  belief  that  it  is  to  this  pool  that  reference  is  made  in  the 
Avords,  “he  made  a pool,  and  a conduit,  and  brought  water 
into  the  city.”  (II.  Kings  xx.  20.)  We  are  told  that  “ Heze- 
kiah also  stopped  the,  upper  course  of  Gihon,  and  brought 
it  straight  doAvn  to  the  Avest  side  of  the  city  of  David.”  (II. 
Chronicles  xxxii.  30.) 

Passing  southAvard  along  Christian  Street,  we  go  through 
Zion  Gate  at  the  highest  point  of  the  Avail  crossing  Mount 
Zion.  On  the  outside  a short  distance  is  the  Armenian  mon- 
astery of  Mount  Zion,  Avhich  they  claim  covers  the  site  of  the 


TOMB  OF  DA  VID. 


543 


house  of  Caiaphas.  Here  several  curious  things  are  shown, 
including  the  place  where  Peter  denied  his  Lord  and  a stone 
containing  the  marks  of  the  feet  of  the  cock  that  crew,  and 
other  curious  superstitions,  with  which  the  reader  need  not 
he  taxed.  Southward  a little  way  farther  is  the  Caenanilum, 
the  Place  of  the  Last  Supper,  but  by  the  Mohammedans 
called  Neby  Dnud — Tomb  of  David.  Close  bj'  is  the  chamber 
dedicated  to  the  last  supper,  anU  in  which  for  a few  juasteis 
we  were  shown  the  room  where  the  table  of  the  last  sixpper 
was  placed.  We  were  then  conducted  up  a flight  of  stejis  to  a 
large  room,  through  the  latticed  door  of  which  is  seen  the  sar- 
cophagus of  David.  The  tomb  is  about  twelve  feet  long  and 
five  feet  high,  .shaped  like  a coffin,  and  closely  guarded  by  the 
Mohammedans.  It  is  asserted  that  tliis  tomb  is  a co]>y  of  the 
real  tomb,  Avhich  is  below  in  a cavern  in  the  rock.  The 
daughter  of  Dr.  Barclay  di.sguised  lun’self  in  Turkish  clothes, 
and  through  the  female  members  of  the  family  of  the  keeper 
of  the  place  got  into  the  tomb  below  and  took  a correct  draw- 
ing. It  is  thought  that  the  building  dates  back  to  the  period 
of  the  Crusaders ; but  whether  it  is  indeed  the  tomb  of  David 
it  is  impossible  to  tell.  We  are  told  that  “David  slei>t  with  his 
fathers,  and  wnis  buried  in  the  city  of  David.”  (I.  Kings  ii. 
10.)  This  was  no  doubt  in  a prepared  tomb  in  that  part  of 
•lerusalem  built  upon  Zion.  This  tomb  became  the  receptacle 
of  the  bodies  of  many  of  the  kings  and  mighty  men  of  Israel, 
who  were  “buried  with  their  fathers;”  that  is,  in  the  city  of 
David.  This  place  of  burial,  embracing  the  tomb  of  David, 
was  no  doubt  well  known  for  over  a thousand  years,  at  least. 
Peter  in  his  address  on  the  da}"^  of  Pentecost  says,  “ Let  me 
freely  speak  unto  you  of  the  patriarch  David,  that  he  is  both 
dead  and  buried;  and  his  sepulcher  is  with  us  unto  this  day.” 
(Acts  ii.  29.) 

Returning  from  these  walks,  we  may  enter  again  the  Zion 
Gate  and  follow  Christian'  Street  westward  to  the  place  where 
it  intersects  David  Street,  then,  turning  to  the  right,  pass  to 
the  east  until  the  foot  of  the  hill  is  reached,  where  Damascus 
Street  from  the  north  may  be  entered  and  the  Damascus 


544 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


Hotel  reached.  If  one  is  not  weary  he  may  find  it  interesting 
to  return  on  the  west  side  of  the  city  and  enter  at  the  Yaffo 
Gate.  Doing  so  I had  a good  view  of  the  people  coming  to 
market  from  Bethlehem,  who  enter  the  city  at  this  gate,  on 
account  of  which  it  is  sometimes  called  the  Bethlehem  Gate. 
With  this  a distressing  scene  met  my  eyes.  Here  were  more 
than  a score  of  lepers  crowding  about  the  gate,  whining,  cry- 
ing, and  begging  for  back-Aiiish.  (See  page  425.)  I was  quite 
glad  to  hasten  down  David  Street  and  make  another  brief 
visit  to  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulcher.  Thus  the  days  of 
my  sojourn  in  the  Holy  City  passed  quite  too  quickly. 

One  day  I visited  a large  Jewish  synagogue,  of  which  there 
are  four  or  five  in  Jerusalem.  Two  of  these  attract  attention. 
The  largest  one,  a great  sc^uare  structure  crowned  with  plas- 
tered dome.s  of  masonry,  is  situated  upon  the  higlier  part  of 
Zion.  Passing  up  a number  of  steps  and  through  a some- 
what intricate  way  we  w<^re  usliered  into  a pleasant  chamber, 
provided  with  seats  for  all  and  elevated  seats  for  instructors. 
Here  a number  of  tall  old  men,  with  venerable  beards,  wear- 
ing lieavy  black  gowns  down  to  the  feet  and  curiously-shaped 
black  hats,  were  passing  to  and  fro,  while  .‘^ome  were  engaged 
in  study.  1 was  invited  to  a comfortable  seat  beside  a rabbi, 
who  showed  me  evident  signs  and  tokens  of  friendship.  In 
the  midst  of  these  he  drew  from  his  pocket  a plug  of  tobacco 
and  most  kindly  tendered  it.  With  such  gestures  and  pleas- 
ing smiles  as  I could  command,  his  well-meant  proffer  of 
kindness  was  declined;  and  I soon  withdrew  from  the  syn- 
agogue. 

The  sojourner  in  Jerusalem  will  often  have  occasion  to  visit 
the  bazaars,  where  all  kinds  of  goods  are  sold.  These  do  not 
materially  differ  in  their  general  features  from  the  bazaars  ot 
Damascus  and  Constantinople  (see  pages  241  and  316),  though 
they  are  not  nearly  so  large  or  interesting. 

I was  much  interested  in  the  partially-excavated  ruins  of 
the  hospital  of  the  Knights  of  St.  John,  a benevolent  order 
which  rose  among  the  Crusaders  about  the  middle  of  the  elev- 
enth century.  The  object  of  the  order  was  to  sustain  pilgrims 


HOSPITAL  OF  ST.  JOHN. 


545 


to  the  Holy  Laud ; and  here  not  tar  from  the  Church  of  the 
Holy  Sepulcher  they  built  a hospital  for  the  benefit  of  pil- 
grims, and  dedicated  it  to  the  memory  of  St.  John,  a Greek, 
who  in  the  seventh  century  had  been  patriarch  at  Alexandria. 
The  order  finally  took  the  form  of  a military  organization, 
which  has  almost  become  extinct,  a mere  shadow  of  it  exist- 
ing only  in  Russia.  This  hospital,  the  ruins  of  which  are  of 
vast  extent,  shows  that  the  contributions  from  Europe  must 
have  given  it.no  inconsiderable  wealth  and  power. 


LADY  BIDING  A DONKEY. 

Day  after  day  I wandered  up  and  down  and  through  these 
winding  streets,  and  trod  among  these  awful  associations  of 
the  long-past  ages.  Outside  the  walls,  u])on  the  walls,  through 
the  winding,  narrow,  dirty  streets,  I hunted  my  way,  some- 

35 


546 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


times  almost  bewildered  with  the  profound  and  solemn  sensa- 
tions of  reverence  and  awe  which  come  to  one  as  he  stands 
face  to  face  with  the  mountains  of  God— sometimes  sorrowful 
and  weeping  at  the  remembrance  of  the  sad  history  which 
followed  the  illustrious  days  of  Jerusalem;  sometimes  filled 
with  j)ity  for  the  poor  jDeojfie  who  live  here,  desecrating  this 
sacred  soil  with  their  low  and  bestial  lives. 

Now  and  then  among  the  motley  throng  of  men  on  foot  and 
on  donkey's,  loaded  camels,  and  women  trudging  along  the 
streets  with  their  dirty  children,  a richly-dressed,  closely- 
veiled  lady  might  be  seen  riding  on  a donkey,  while  one  or 
two  stout  Arabs  attended  her. 

When  needing  a gold  coin  changed  into  the  money  of  the 
country,  I found  it  very  necessary  to  have  the  assistance  of  a 
guide  who  understood  the  busiiujss.  The  money-changers  sit 
along  the  streets  in  great  numbers,  and  can  easily  be  found. 
One  of  them  Avill  count  you  out  ‘‘good  money”  in  silver  coin 
in  exchange  for  French  or  English  gold;  but  at  the  next 
bazaar  or  place  of  the  “money-changers”  you  will  learn  that 
one  third  or  one  half  of  it  is  in  coin  Avhich  is  not  in  circula- 
tion at  all,  or  is  taken  at  enormous  discount.  I soon  learned, 
however,  the  coins  which  were  useless. 

Coming  out  of  my  room  in  the  hotel  one  day,  and  stand- 
ing in  the  upper  court,  from  which  a splendid  view  of  the 
mount  of  Olives  lay  before  the  eye,  my  attention  was  sud- 
denly attracted  by  a great  noise  of  voices  in  the  street  just 
beloAv  me.  Walking  to  the  balustrade,  I looked  down  into 
Damascus  Street  and  saw  tAVO  men  engaged  in  a terrible 
braAA’l.  I could  not  learn  the  cause  of  it.  Angry  looks,  ter- 
rific gestures,  and  boisterous  words,  all  indescribable,  con- 
tinued for  a long  time.  By  and  by  one  of  the  men  determined 
to  settle  the  difficulty.  He  made  repeated  efforts  to  kiss  his 
enemy,  but  fiiiled.  At  last  he  caught  hold  of  the  other  man's 
head  and  held  it  fast  until  he  could  give  him  a good  solid 
kiss.  Quick  as  thought  all  Avas  over,  and  one  passed  one  Avay 
and  the  other  in  the  opposite  direction,  again  and  again  re- 
turning kindly  salutations  as  they  parted. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


Land  of  Abialiam  — Sight  of  Bethlehem  Fields  — Tomb  of  Kaehel  — Giloh 
— Pools  of  Solomon  — Tekoa  — Mountain  of  Paradise  — Cave  of 
Adiillam  -Russian  Pilgrims — Abraham’s  Oak  — Plain  of  Mamre  — 
Hebron — Cave  of  Machpelah  — Pool  of  Hebron  — Bethlehem— Church 
of  the  Xativit3'— Well  of  David — Birth  of  Christ — Lights  of  Zion. 


^^I|X  Friday  morning,  Xovember  18th,  quite  before  da}'- 
1=  light.  Dr.  Thompson,  Dr.  Fry,  and  the  Avriter  Avere 
in  the  saddle,  headed  by  our  faithful  guide  Joseph. 

Om'  pni’po.se  Avas  to  go  soutlnvard,  at  least  as  far  as  to 
■^jb  Hebron,  the  land  of  Abraham,  and  to  see  the  home 
I Avhere  he  dAvelt  for  so  long  a time,  and  Avhere  he  bought 
of  the  sons  of  Heth  the  field  of  Ephron,  Avhich  Avas  in  Mach- 
lielah,  Avhich  Avas  before  Mamre,  even  the  cave  of  Machpelah 
in  AA'hich  Sarah  Avas  buried  and  Avhich  afterward  became  the 
receptacle  of  Abraham,  Isaac  and  Rebekah,  Jacob  and  Leah, 
.Avhen  their  earthly  pilgrimage  Avas  over. 

We  rode  sloAvIy  tiirough  Damascus  Street,  passed  out  the  Da- 
mascus Gate,  around  the  north-Avest  corner  of  Jerusalem,  and 
across  the  Valley  of  Hinnom,  AA’ith  the  Hill  of  Evil  Counsel,  in 
its  dark  outlines,  to  our  left,  and  hurried  soutlnvard  toAvard 
Bethlehem.  Soon  Ave  crossed  the  Plain  of  RejAhaim,  Avhere 
David  tAvice  encountered  the  Philistines  in  battle  after  his 
possession  of  Jerusalem.  (II.  Samuel  v.  18-25.)  It  Avas  also 
called  the  Valley  of  the  Giants.  (Joshua  xv.  8.)  The  plain 
is  about  two  miles  in  length.  For  three  or  four  miles  Ave 
had  a good  road,  and  our  horses  made  fine  speed.  The  sun 
Avas  just  beginning  to  shoAv  its  broad,  shining  face  above  Beth- 
lehem, when  Ave  Avere  in  full  sight  of  the  town.  It  rose  just 
above  the  white  houses  of  the  birthplace  of  our  Savior,  and 

547 


548 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


over  the  stony  fields  where  once  Ruth,  the  youthful  widow, 
went  out  into  the  fields  of  Boaz  to  glean  and  gather  after 
the  reapers  among  the  sheaves,  and  from  which  at  e^en-time 
she  carried  into  Bethlehem  to  her  mother-in-law  her  epha  of 
Barley.  iMore  than  three  thousand  years  ago  sorrowful  Ruth 
came  down  these  same  hills,  as  the  sun  was  rising,  every 
morning  all  the  days  of  the  harley-harvest  and  the  wheat- 
harvest.  Thirteen  hundred  years  later  Mary  came  here  on 
this  same  highway  to  Become  the  mother  of  our  Blessed  Lord. 
But  here  now  are  great  caravans  of  camels  and  donkeys 
loaded  with  Bundles  of  brush  for  fuel,  coal,  and  other  things 
which  they  are  carrying  to  .Jerusalem  to  the  market. 

Instead  of  entering  into  Bethlehem  we  turned  to  the  light 
and  i>assed  southward  toward  Hebron.  M e had  now  come 
six  miles ; hut  it  is  yet  fourteen  or  fifteen  miles  to  Hebron. 


To  our  right, 
and  close  to  the 
road,  is  the 
tomb  of  the  be- 
loved Rachel. 

It  is  a small 
stone  structure 
of  modern  date, 

t h o u g h this 
site  has  been 
held  for  many 
centuries  as 

the  place  where  ----  - -v— 

Rachel.  Chris-  tomb  of  rachel. 

dans,  Mohammedans,  and  Jews  all  unite  in  holding  this  as 
the  tomb  of  the  mother  of  Joseph.  There  comes  a strange  sad- 
ness to  one  as  he  stands  by  the  Tomb  of  Rachel 
hers  the  sorrow  of  her  untimely  death  and  reads,  “ And  Rachel 
died,  and  was  buried  in  the  way  of  Ephrath,  which  is  Bethle- 
hem. And  Jacob  set  a pillar  upon  her  grave : that  is  the  pi 
lar  of  Rachel’s  grave  unto  this  day.”  (Genesis  xxxv.  19,  •) 


POOLS  OF  SOLOMON. 


549 


Thus  in  the  time  of  Moses,  nearly  tliree  hundred  years  after 
her  burial,  her  tomb  uas  well  known.  Of  course  that  pillar 
has  perished  long  ago,  but  other  .'Structures  have  peri)ctuated 
the  same  sad  memories  upon  the  same  lonely  spot.  Is  it  not 
strange  that  the  beautiful  and  most  loved  and  unfortunate 
Rachel  was  made  to  sleep  here  alone,  while  Leah  was  buried 
in  the  cave  of  Machpelah,  to  which  years  afterward  the  body 
of  Jacob  was  borne  from  far-off  Egy]jt? 

As  we  continue  our  journey  along  the  slojjc  of  the  valley, 
far  over  to  the  right  are  splendid  olive-orchards,  and  be^'ond 
the  pretty-looking  town  occupying  the  site  of  ancient  Giloh, 
the  home  of  Ahithophel,  the  friend  of  the  counselor  of  David 
who  went  over  to  Absalom.  (II.  Samuel  xv.  12,  xvi.  23.)  Soon 
the  road  becomes  exceedingly  rough ; and  we  were  jolted 
severely,  for  we  pushed  our  horses  quite  out  of  their  usual 
gait. 

We  turned  aside  for  a while  to  examine  the  Pools  of  Solo- 
mon, as  they  are  called,  situated  ai>out  two  miles  south-west 


FOOLS  OP  SOLOMON. 


of  Bethlehem,  close  by  the  road  leading  to  Hebron.  There 
are  three  of  these  pools  in  the  same  deep  valley.  At  each 
pool  a wall  is  built  across  the  valley,  and  the  pools  are  walled 
up  well  and  strong  on  all  sides.  They  are  partly  hewed  out  of 


•5-50 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


t^olid  rock.  They  are  ahout  fifty  yards  from  each  other. 
The  upi)er  one  is  three  hundred  and  ei"litv-one  feet  lon» 
two  hundred  and  eighteen  feet  wide,  and  twenty-five  feet 
deep.  The  middle  pool  is  somewhat  larger,  while  the  lower 
one  is  not  less  than  five  hundred  and  ninetv-two  feet  lono- 
over  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet  wide,  and  nearly  fifty  feet 
deep.  Our  illustration  gives  a good  view  of  these  pools,  and 
also  the  large  square  castle-like  structure  to  the  left,  or  at 
the  north-west  corner  of  the  ujiper  ])ool,  which  is  used  as  a 
khan  and  barracks  for  Turkish  soldiers.  The.«e  pools  are 
sui)plied  from  springs  and  wells,  and  were  no  doubt  intended 
also  to  catch  the  rain-fall.  They  supplied,  anciently  as  they 
do  now,  ])ortions  of  Jerusalem  Avith  water,  carried  by  acjue- 
ducts.  Solomon  says,  “ I made  me  gardens  and  orchards,  and 
I planted  trees  in  them  of  all  kind  of  fruits:  I made  me 
pools  of  Avater,  to  Avater  therewith  the  AAood  that  bringeth 
forth  tree.«.”  (Ecclesiastes  ii.  o,  6.)  The.<e  may  he  the  Avork  of 
his  hands.  Sure  it  is  that  it  required  a vast  amount  of  labor 
to  lieAV  them  out  of  this  limestone  rock,  ^"ery  many  noAV  be- 
lieve that  these  pools  are  of  Homan  origin,  and  that  the  aque- 
ducts Avere  constructed  by  Pontius  Pilate,  as  mentioned  by 
Josephus.  It  is  more  probable  that  they  belong  to  a much 
earlier  ]»eriod,  and  Avere  repaired  by  the  Romans.  The  aque- 
ducts are  built  in  a manner  AAhich  shoAvs  that  the  princiiAle 
of  the  rise  of  Avater  by  hydraulic  jiressure,  Avhen  confined  in 
pipes,  causing  the  Avater  to  reach  the  same  level  of  its  begin- 
ning, AA'as  understood  by  those  constructing  them.  This  is  a 
principle  which  does  not  anvAvhere  appear  in  aqueducts  of 
Roman  origin.  If  the  p<.)ols  Avere  all  combined  into  one,  they 
Avould  aggregate  a surface  of  not  less  than  six  and  one  fourth 
acres,  Avith  an  aA’erage  dejAth  of  about  forty  feet.  Thus  their 
A'astness,  as  Avell  as  maiwelous  arrangements  for  their  supply, 
and  the  immense  labor  and  expense  of  construction,  shoAv  us 
that  they  belong  to  an  illustrious  period  in  the  history  of  this 
wonderful  land.  They  tell  a silent  but  eloquent  story  of 
strength,  beauty,  and  glory  which  haA’e  faded  from  Judea. 
Having  examined  them  carefully,  as  I think  of  them  now, 


RUSSIAN  riLGRIMS. 


551 


the  feeling  grows  more  convincing  that  they  belong  to  the 
illustrious  reign  of  Solomon. 

From  the  Pools  of  Solomon  the  Wady  Urtas  cuts  toward  the 
Dead  Sea.  Three  miles  down  this  valley  are  the  ruins  of  Te- 
koa,  called  by  the  iNIohammedans  Khirhet  Tchua,  It  was  the 
home  of  the  Prophet  Amos  (Amos  i.  1)  ; and  the  home  of  the 
woman  who  at  the  instigation  of  Joab  interceded  Avith  David 
.«o  ailroitly  in  behalf  of  Absalom.  (II.  Samuel  xiv.  1-21.)  Five 
miles  farther  south-east  is  the  Herodium,  a great  hill  four 
hundred  feet  high,  Avith  a to]A  one  hundred  j-ards  in  diameter. 
It  is  probably,  at  least  in  part,  an  artificial  structure.  Here 
Herod  had  a palace,  and  his  dead  body  Avas  brought  from 
•lericho  and  buried  at  Herodium  in  a gorgeous  manner,  ‘'It 
being  Archelaus’  care  that  the  procession  to  his  father’s  sepul- 
cher shoukl  be  A’er}"  sumptuous.”  (Jo.sephus’  Antiquities  of 
the  .lews,  Book  xvii.  chapter  8.)  The  Arabs  call  tlie  hill  the 
Mountain  of  Paradise.  Some  distance  south-east  across  the 
Wady  Urtas  is  a large  natural  cavern  long-time  regarded  as  the 
fave  of  Adullam,  where  David,  Avith  his  men,  Avas  hidden  from 
Saul.  (1.  Samuel  xxii.  1.)  Of  late  years  it  has  been  believed 
that  tlie  Cave  of  Adullam  Avas  near  the  Philistine  country, 
and  it  is  thought  to  be  represented  by  a cavern  north-Avest  of 
Hebron,  in  the  Valley  of  Elah. 

From  Solomon's  ]>ools  soutliAvard  the  country  is  one  lime- 
stone hill  after  another.  The  lands,  after  about  six  miles, 
are  very  yiroductive,  though  hilly  and  rough.  We  saAV  great 
companies  of  Ru.ssian  pilgrims  on  foot,  traA'eling  hei’e  and 
there  visiting  the  sacred  places.  There  Avere  old  men  and  old 
Avomen  by  scores.  In  this  coirntry  Ave  passed  a company  of 
not  less  than  four  or  five  hundred  going  to  Hebron.  They 
Avere  nearly  all  barefooted  and  roughly  clad,  and  carried  Avith 
them  a feAv  loaves  of  bread.  INIohammedan  men  Avere  seen 
riding  along  on  donkeys  in  a comfortable  manner,  while  the 
Avomen  Avith  great  burdens  on  their  backs  or  heads,  dres.sed 
in  a simple  cotton  goAvn,  trudged  along  behind.  This  Ave 
had  often  seen  until  our  eyes  grew  tired  of  it.  And  here  in 
the  land  of  Sarah,  Leah,  and  Rachel, — here  Avhere  God  hon- 


552 


THE  HOLY  I AH  D. 


ored  womanhood  in  the  i)erson  of  Mary  as  never  before  or 
since, — this  sorrow  is  borne  by  the  poor  women.  Men  were 
])lo\ving  in  the  fields,  sometimes  with  a camel,  sometimes  with 
an  o.v  and  an  ass,  but  usually  with  oxen.  Here  and  there  thev 
were  sowing  their  fields  with  grain.  The  plows  were  very 
rude  indeed  (see  page  330),  and  the  men  seemed  to  under- 
take only  the  cultivation  of  small  patches  of  land.  In  sow- 
ing grain  they  had  the  seed  in  their  gowns,  which  they  held 
up  in  one  hand  so  as  to  form  a kind  of  .sack.  All  the  way  we 
were  again  and  again  reminded  that  over  the  same  road  Abra- 
ham and  Sarali  traveled  together  with  lordly  frame.  Here 
I.«aac  and  Rebecca  often  walked  side  by  side.  Over  this  same 
road  Jacob  escaped  from  Esau,  and  down  over  these  rough 
hills  Joseph  fled  with  Mary  and  the  young  child  to  Egypt 
to  escape  the  cruel  rage  of  the  wicked  Herod. 

Before  twelve  o’clock  we  had  come  down  under  the  shade  of 
the  dry  stone  walls  surrounding  rich  fields  and  gardens,  and 
were  resting  beneath  the  shade  of  Abraham’s  Oak,  on  the 
plains  over  a mile  north-west  of  Hc'bron.  This  is  no  doubt 
the  plain  of  Mamre;  and  it  is  marvelously  fertile.  The  vines 
in  this  valley  answer  well  to  those  of  Esbcol,  from  which 
the  s])ies  bore  the  grapes  to  Israel.  (Numbers  xiii.  22-24.) 
Among  mairy  splendid  vineyards  in  Pale.stine,  I saw  none  to 
be  at  all  compared  with  the  grapes  and  vines  in  the  val- 
ley of  Eshcol.  The  vines  are  not  trellised  but  are  trimmed 
somewhat  closely,  and  planted  only  eight  or  ten  feet  apart; 
and  their  trunks  looked  more  like  trees  than  vines.  Modern 
writers,  however,  are  inclined  to  find  Eshcol  much  farther 
south  and  nearer  Beersheba. 

The  lone,  solitary  oak,  long  known  as  Abraham’s  Oak, 
spreading  its  great  branches  out  like  a patriarch  of  ages,  re- 
veals to  us  the  fitting  reverence  for  the  oaks  at  Shechem  and 
other  places  mentioned  in  the  Bible  record.  It  is  thirty-two 
feet  in  circumference,  and  for  five  hundred  years  has  been  re- 
vered for  its  antiquity.  Several  of  its  great  branches  are 
dying,  and  are  already  propped  up  to  keep  them  from  falling; 
yet  its  mighty  boughs  form  a crown  and  shade  such  as  the 


iii:r>noN. 


553 


ancient  Israt.lites  were  wont  to  assemble  beneath  in  the  wor- 
ship of  their  God,  and  under  wliich  they  were  wont  to  bury 
their  loved  and  honored  dead.  The  tree  is  guarded  with 
superstitious  care ; and  though  I paid  a boy  several  piasters 
for  an  acorn  from  its  boughs,  it  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty 
that  I could  get  him  to  be  quiet  until  I secured  it,  standing 
in  the  saddle,  though  no  injury  was  done  to  the  sage  old  tree. 

Having  rested  awhile  under  “Abraham’s  Oak,”  we  climbed 
into  our  saddles  and  rode  south-east  over  a mile,  into  Hebron, 
just  twenty  miles  south  of  .Jerusalem,  the  old  home  of  Abra- 
ham, the  friend  of  God.  It  is  the  most  fanatical  ^lohammedan 
town  of  Palestine;  and  Conder  says  seventeen  thousand  Mos- 
lems dwell  here,  wliile  about  live  hundred  Jews  also  have 
their  home  in  this  renowned  city.  No  Christians  attempt  to 
live  in  Hebron.  It  is  one  of  the  veiy  few  towns  of  this  land 
whicli  is  not  built  upon  a hill;  and  yet  the  city  lies  much 
higher  above  the  sea-level  than  Jerusalem.  Its  location  must 
always  have  been  very  nearly  what  it  is  now ; for  the  pools 
and  cave  of  Machpelah  determine  with  evident  limits  the 
boundaries  for  a considerable  part  of  the  town. 

Hebron  is  divided  into  two  parts,  and  lies  against  the  west- 
ern slopings  of  a hill,  and  in  a narrow  valle}".  Its  streets  are 
paved,  but  are  nothing  more  than  dirty  alleys.  Nearly  four 
thousand  years  ago,  when  Lot  had  chosen  to  go  to  the  east, 
and  had  “pitched  his  tent  toward  Sodom,”  “Abi’am  removed 
his  tent,  and  came  and  dwelt  in  the  plain  of  Mamre,  which  is 
in  Hebron,  and  built  there  an  altar  unto  tlie  Lord.”  (Gene.‘<is 
xiii.  18.)  Nearly  lialf  a century  afterward  he  pui"cha.sed  the 
double  cave  of  Machpelah  from  Ephon,  the  Hittite,  for  four 
hundred  shekels  of  silver,  as  a burial-i>lace  for  his  faiiiily  in 
this  laud.  (Genesis  xxiii.  7-20.)  Though  he  had  received  the 
land  only  by  promise,  he  “ buried  Sarah  his  wife  in  the  cave 
of  the  field  of  Machpelah”  with  confident  hope.  And  here 
also,  a few  years  later,  Isaac  and  Ishmael,  the  sons  of  Abra- 
ham, laid  the  prince  of  patriarchs  to  rest.  (Genesis  xxv.  9.) 
Hebron  was  long  afterward  a city  of  refuge,  and  at  that  time 
no  doubt  covered  the  hill  above  modern  Hebron.  (.Joshua 


554 


TTFE  HOLY  LAND. 


XX.  7.)  To  tlie.se  hills  and  valleys  David  came  down  from 
Bethlehem,  his  home,  when  persecuted  by  Saul ; and  here, 
after  God  had  given  him  the  kingdom,  for  seven  and  a 
half  years  he  reigned  in  Hebron  in  prosperity  and  ever- 
increasing  power,  until  his  throne  was  removed  to  Jerusalem. 
The  city  is  not  walled,  though  gates  guard  the  entrances  to 
its  streets.  It  was  at  one  of  these  gates  that  the  mighty  Joab 
slew  Abner,  one  of  Saul's  chief  captains,  who  had  come  to 
David  and  was  do]>arting  in  peace.  \ (II.  Samuel  iii.  27.)  In 
the  lower  part  of  the  town  are  the  two  ancient  pools,  the 


HEBRON  AND  THE  HARAM. 

larger  of  which  is  one  hundred  and  thirty-two  feet  square  and 
over  fifty  feet  deep.  It  is  supplied  by  under-ground  channels, 
which  never  become  dry.  Tradition  with  great  plausibility 
fixes  fhis  as  fhe  place  where  David's  young  men  fook  the 
hands  and  feet  of  Rechab  and  Baanah,  the  slain  murderers 
of  David's  rival,  Ishbosheth,  “ and  hanged  them  up  over  the 
pool  in  Hebron.”  (II.  Samuel  iv.  12.)  This  was  a remarkable 
example  of  stern  justice  to  murderers,  and  magnanimity  to 
the  memory  of  a slain  foe. 

The  most  interesting  place  in  Hebron  is  the  Cave  of  Mach- 


CAVE  OF  MAC  HP  EL  AH. 


pelah,  inclosed  in  the  Great  Mosque,  or  Haram,  which  is  not 
accessible  to  Christians  or  Jevrs,  being  guarded  with  the  strict- 
est care  by  the  Musselmen.  It  is  situated  toward  the  south- 
ern end,  and  near  the  upper  edge  of  the  city.  The  mosque 
is  an  oblong  structure,  about  two  hundred  feet  long,  one  hun- 
dred and  fifteen  feet  wide,  and  fifty-eight  feet  high.  It  stands 
on  a very  steep  hill-side;  and  the  old  wall  much  resembles  the 
oldest  portions  of  the  wall  of  the  Haram  at  .Jerusalem.  The 
stones  are  of  immense  size,  and  drafted  after  the  Jewisli 
style.  Professor  Palmer  thinks  this  structure  belongs  to  no 
period  later  than  the  time  of  Solomon.  One  of  the  stones 
is  thirO'-eight  feet  long  and  three  and  a half  feet  thick.  Jose- 
phus, who  speaks  of  this  building  with  great  praise,  would 
doubtless  have  credited  the  structure  to  Herod  had  it  been 
br.ilt  by  him.  Before  that  era  then*  is  none  in  which  such 
a building  is  at  all  probable  this  side  of  the  days  of  Solomon. 
A modern  wall  with  minarets  has  of  course  been  made  to 
surmount  this  ancient  structure.  It  is  asserted  that  beneath 
this  building  is  the  cave  in  which  Abraham  and  Sarah  were 
buried  side  by  side,  Isaac  and  Rebekah,  .Jacob  and  Leah.  We 
were  not  allowed  to  come  nearer  than  to  the  entrance-door  at 
the  front,  and  could  only  feel  moderately  safe  from  Moham- 
medan fanaticism  and  fury  while  examining  the  old  castle 
thoroughly  from  without. 

Is  it  not  a little  strange  that  Hagar  and  Keturah  were  not 
buried  here  with  Sarah,  neither  Rachel  with  her  older  sistei’ 
Leah  ? For  some  cause  there  is  a recognition  of  the  law  of 
monogamy  here  in  the  Cave  of  Machpelah.  I had  greatly 
longed  to  see  this  old  home  of  Abraham,  and  to  stand  on  the 
ground  where  God  met  him  face  to  face  and  told  him  to  loolv 
to  the  south  and  east  and  west,  with  the  assurance  that  tlie 
whole  land  should  be  given  to  his  children,  when  as  yet  he 
had  not  so  much  as  a foot  of  land  to  call  his  own.  And  here 
gazing  upon  the  stars  above,  the  patriarch  trom  Haran  be- 
lieved that  his  seed  should  be  as  the  host  of  heaven  for  num- 
ber, when  as  yet  he  had  no  child.  With  peculiar  emotions  I 
stood  beside  the  Cave  of  Machpelah,  where  they  buried  Abra- 


556 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


ham  and  the  beautiful  Sarah,  and  where  long  after  the  em- 
balmed body  of  Jacob,  carried  from  Egv]jt  by  Joseph  and  his 
bi’ethren,  was  laid  away  to  rest.  No  Christian  has  ever  been 
allowed  to  explore  the  cave,  though  Dean  Stanley  and  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  in  1862,  were  admitted  to  the  interior  of 
the  mosque.  There  is  a bare  possibility  that  the  mummy  of 
Jacob  is  still  sleeping  here  in  a niche  in  the  rock;  but  even 
the  dust  of  the  other 'patriarchs  has  long  since  wasted  away. 
As  I walked  about  the  cave  and  rode  up  and  down  the  j^lain  of 
Mamre,  only  the  memory  of  the  patriarchs  hovered  over  the 
hills  and  plains.  Their  foot-jndnts  are  lost  from  the  streets  of 
Hebron,  their  flocks  no  more  low  and  bleat  in  the  rocky  fields, 
and  Hagar  no  longer  bears  the  grief  of  being  sent  away  from 
the  home  of  Abraham  with  her  lone  and  loved  Ishmael. 

Turning  away  from  the  Cave  of  Machpelah,  we  rode  through 
the  narrow,  crowded  streets  of  Hebron  — a city  about  half  a 
mile  long,  and  turned  our  course  toward  Bethlehem.  I was 
indeed  glad  to  be  safely  out  of  the  excited  INIoslem  throng.  As 
we  had  entered  the  city  we  came  in  contact  with  a gay  and 
excited  jirocession,  led  by  a number  of  persons  with  drums 
and  other  rude  instruments  of  mu.sic,  with  which  a great 
noise  was  being  made.  Banners  were  carried  at  the  head  of 
the  procession,  and  a great  throng  attended  a number  of  boys, 
gayly  dressed,  who  rode  on  fine  horses.  This  was  a Moham- 
medan festival  connected  with  the  rite  of  circumcision. 

When  the  evening  came  we  had  passed  over  the  rich  past- 
ure-lands of  the  Hebrew  patriarch,  and  just  as  the  sun  was 
going  down  beyond  the  Mediterranean,  and  there  stood  in  full 
view  one  lone  star  over  Bethlehem,  we  entered  the  iiretty  town 
where  more  than  eighteen  hundred  years  ago  Jesus  Christ  was 
born  a little  child.  We  rode  along  the  rough  lanes  beside  the 
stone  walls  surrounding  the  gardens  about  Bethlehem  to  the 
north-east  part  of  the  town,  and  entered  the  gateway  shown 
in  our  truthful  illustration.  How  that  evening  sentinel  viv- 
idly brought  to  memory  the  “ Star  in  the  East,”  which  guided 
the  wise  men  until  it  came  and  stood  over  where  the  young 
child  was.  What  a contrast  between  Hebron  and  Bethlehem. 


BETHLEHEM  PHOM  THE  NORTH-EAST. 


557 


558 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


The  white  stone  houses  and  pretty  fields  of  Bethlehem,  well 
cultivated  and  productive  in  a high  degre3,  make  one  of  the 
most  delightful  places  in  all  Palestine.  It  is  built  on  two  hills 
running  east  and  west,  which  are  connected  by  a ridge,  or  kind 
of  saddle.  The  entire  town  is  of  stone,  and  in  contrast  with 
the  dingy  buildings  of  Palestine  its  white  walls  present  a 
beautiful  appearance.  Of  the  five  thousand  i^eople  only  three 
hundred  are  said  to  be'  Mohammedans,  nearly  a hundred  Prot- 
estant Christians,  and  the  remainder  Greeks,  Catholics,  and 
Armenians.  Though  the  lands  about  Bethlehem  are  studded 
with  limestone  rock,  the  hills  are  beautifully  terraced  and  are 
crowned  with  olive-orchards,  fig.'<,  and  vines.  It  lies  just  six 
miles  south  of  Jerusalem,  and  a little  way  to  the  left  as  you 
go  to  Hebron.  As  we  rode  through  its  long  narrow  street, 
from  which  narrower  alleys  lead  off  at  various  places,  I was 
assured  that  on  either  side  the  scene  was  not  unlike  that 
which  once  greeted  the  coming  of  Mary  and  Joseph.  There 
has  been  but  little  change  in  the  location  of  the  town  since 
the  days  of  Jesus.  The  destructive  eye  of  war  has  not  seen 
enough  in  this  little  town  to  attract  the  fatal  armie.s,  and 
here  on  this  rocky  ridge  Bethlehem  still  sits  in  mellow  maj- 
esty much  as  it  did  when  the  tender  feet  of  the  shepherd 
David  led  his  father’s  sheep  slowly  and  gently  down  eastward 
through  the  valley  where  a thousand  years  later  the  angels 
sung  the  first  “ Gloria  in  Excehis,"  over  the  shejiherds  who 
gathered  their  herds  into  the  winter  folds  and  watched  them 
for  the  night ; for  this  was  the  childhood  home  of  David,  to 
which  Samuel  came  to  anoint  him  king  instead  of  Saul,  when 
he  was  yet  a lad,  and  the  keeper  of  his  father’s  flocks.  (I. 
Samuel  xvi.  13.)  This  was  called  the  “ City  of  David,”  and 
would  have  always  remained  in  honor  as  his  home  had  it  not 
a thousand  years  later  shared  a higher  and  richer  honor  in 
becoming  the  birthplace  of  our  Lord.  Bethlehem, — the  House 
of  Bread, — by  the  birth  of  the  Prince  of  Peace,  as  foretold  by 
the  prophet  seven  hundred  years  before,  was  no  longer  the 
least  among  the  princes  of  Judah;  for  out  of  it  came  forth  the 
divine  Ruler  (Micah  v.  2)  “whose  goings  forth  have  been  from 
of  old,  from  the  day«  of  eternity.” 


CHURCH  OF  THE  NATIVITY. 


558 


The  most  interesting  of  all  places  in  or  about  Bethlehem  is 
the  Church  of  St.  Mary,  as  it  is  called,  covering  the  spot 
where  God  was  manifest  in  the  Besh.  It  is  owned  jointly  by 
the  Greeks,  Latins,  and  Armenians.  There  is  no  question  as 
to  the  site  of  ancient  Bethlehem  being  here;  and  the  evidence 
which  hxes  the  precise  spot  of  the  stable  in  which  Christ  was 
born,  “because  there  was  no  room  for  them  in  the  inn,’’  is  per- 
haps stronger  than  that  which  fixes  any  location  in  all  Pales- 
tine. Justin  Martyr,  of  the  second  century,  and  Eu.sebius,  of 
a later  time,  fixed  the  birthplace  of  Jesus  in  a cavern.  As  early 
as  A.  D.  ooO  a splendid  basilica  stood  over  this  spot,  built  by 
order  of  Constantine.  It  is  held  by  many  — and  probably 
correctly, — that  the  ])resent  building  is  the  one  erected  by  Con- 
stantine. Its  simplicity  of  style  and  other  facts  seem  to 
warrant  this  belief.  If  so,  this  is  the  oldest  building  in  the 
world,  erected  as  a Christian  church.  The  floor  is  }>aved  with 
stone,  and  the  walls  are  plain.  The  building  has  a nave  and 
double  aisles,  separated  by  double  rows  of  monolithic  columns 
of  reddish  limestone,  with  Corinthian  capitals,  painted  with 
figures  of  saints,  dim  with  age. 

These  columns  are  nineteen  feet  high,  the  nave  is  over  thir- 
ty-four feet  Avid(',  and  the  aisles  ai'e  about  twelve  feet  each. 
Passing  through  the  church,  we  descended  thirteen  stejxs  to 
the  crypt,  and  were  in  the  Chapel  of  the  Nativity,  a cavern 
in  the  rock,  the  floor  and  walls  of  which  are  paved  and  lined 
with  beautiful  marble.  It  is  about  ten  feet  high,  twelve  feet 
wide,  and  nearly  forty  feet  from  east  to  west.  It  is  lighted  by 
thirty-two  beautiful  lamps,  which  are  continually  burning. 
Tradition  has  long  held  this  as  the  birthplace  of  the  infant 
Christ.  To  our  left  is  an  altar,  under  which,  in  a recess,  is  a 
silver  star  in  the  marble  pavement,  with  the  inscription  Hie 
lie  Virgine  Maria  Jesus  Chrisfus  natus  est.  (Here  Jesus  Christ 
was  born  of  the  Virgin  Mary.)  About  the  recess  hang  fifteen 
lamps,  owned  and  kept  burning  by  the  Greeks,  Latins,  and 
Armenians.  The  two  former  have  six  and  five  respectively, 
and  the  latter  four.  This  marks  the  spot  of  the  birth  of  the 
Lord  Jesus.  To  the  right  a few  jjaces  we  descended  a few 


560 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


stei)s  to  the  Chapel  of  tlie  Manger,  where  Jesus  was  laid.  It 
is  covered  with  brown  marble  on  the  sides  and  white  mar- 
ble on  the  bottom.  In  the  same  chai)el  is  the  “ Altar  of  Ado- 
ration,” where  the  wise  men  are  said  to  have  worshiped  the 
infant  Jesus.  (Matthew  ii.  11.) 

We  w'ere  kindly  shown  through  all  the  portions  of  the 
church;  and  with,  tender  thoughts  looked  again  and  again 
upon  these  narrow  walls,  which  once  held  a young  mother, 
joyful  at  the  birth  of  the  long-promised  iNIessiah.  AVhile  the 
shejjherds  told  the  story  of  his  birth,  and  the  Magi  went  to 
their  own  land  to  relate  the  wonderful  tidings,  Mary,  of  royal 
w'omanhood,  “kept  all  these  things  and  ])ondered  them  in  her 
heart.”  She  haM  a deeper  sorrow  and  pang ; she  experienced 
a higher  joy  and  honor;  she  knew  the  secret  of  the  Lord,  but 
turned  her  loving,  calm  eyes  on  her  infant  Child  and  wor- 
shiped God,  and  thought  upon  his  mercy  to  the  world  and  to 
his  handmaiden.  Oh,  wondrous  night ! Oh,  happy,  blessed 
family,  crowded  from  the  inn  to  teach  the  world  a lesson  of 
loving  humility  to  the  end  of  time. 

Here  the  reader  very  naturally  raises  some  questions  which 
can  not  be  at  once  dismissed.  Is  it  true  indeed  that  Christ 
was  l)orn  in  a cave,  and  if  so,  is  this  the  place  of  his  birth  ? 
To  this  it  may  he  justly  answered  that  there  are  no  substan- 
tial reasons  for  asserting  that  the  place  where  they  “ laid  Him 
in  a manger;  because  there  was  no  room  for  them  in  the  inn” 
(Luke  ii.  7),  was  not  in  part  or  entirely  a cavern  in  the  rock. 
I found  many  such  caverns  now  used  as  shelters  for  sheep, 
goats,  and  cattle.  Xo  doubt  they  were  so  used  in  the  time  of 
Christ.  This  cave  at  Betlilehem  is  so  covered  and  lined  with 
marble  that  it  was  impossible  for  the  writer  to  examine  its 
structure  thoroughly  enough  to  determine  the  means  of  en- 
trance to  it  in  its  original  condition.  Many  have  asserted  that 
it  is  unsuited  to  the  uses  of  a khan,  or  part  of  a caravansary. 
Respecting  this  location  Lieutenant  Conder  says,  “ It  is  almost 
the  only  site  which  we  can  trace  earlier  than  the  time  of  Con- 
stantine ; and  the  tradition  seems  to  me  credible,  because 
throughout  this  part  of  Palestine  there  are  innumerable  in- 


BIRTH  OF  CHRIST. 


561 


stances  of  stables  cut  in  rock,  resembling  the  Bethlehem  grotto. 
Such  stables  I have  planned  and  measured  at  Tekoa,  ’Aziz, 
and  other  places  south  of  Bethlehem,  and  the  mangers  exist- 
ing in  them  leave  no  doubt  as  to  their  use  and  character.  The 
credibility  of  this  tradition  tluis  a]>pears  to  be  far  greater  than 
that  attaching  to  the  later  di.scoveries,  by  u'hicli  the  enthusi- 
astic Helena  and  the  })olitic  Constantine  settled  tlie  .scenes  of 
other  Christian  events;  and  the  rude  grotto  with  its  rocky 
manger  may,  it  seems  to  me,  be  accepted  even  by  the  most 
ske])tical  of  modern  explorers.’’ — Tent  WorJc,  p.  145. 

Again,  it  is  asked  whether  the  account  of  Luke,  who  says 
“there  were  in  the  same  country  shepherds  abiding  in  the 
field,  keeping  watch  over  their  flocks  by  night  [keeping  the 
night-watches] ,”  does  not  lead  us  to  discreilit  the  commonly 
accepted  twenty-fifth  of  December  as  the  tinu!  of  the  bii’tli  of 
Christ.  Would  the  shepherds  be  “in  the  lield’’  keeping  the 
night-watches  at  that  season  of  the  year?  To  tliis  affair 
answer  must  be  favorable  to  the  accepted  date.  In  the  sum- 
mer the  flocks  would  })robalfly  be  far  away  in  tlie  distant 
pasturages,  while  in  December  we  would  expect  to  find  them 
at  liome,  or  in  the  pastures  auct^i^lds  about  Bethlehem,  and 
would  be  there  attended  by  the  shepherds. 

Near  the  north-eastern  entrance  to  the  town  is  the  tradi- 
tional Well  of  David.  There  are  three  cisterns  cut  in  the 
rock;  but  the  southern  is  the  larg(>st.  It  is  forty  or  fifty  feet 
square,  with  five  or  six  openings  into  it  from  the  surface. 
This  has  long  been  considered  as  the  place  to  which  David 
turned  wlien  he  was  sheltering  from  the  Philistines,  who 
were  in  Bethlehem,  and  .said,  “Oh  that  one  would  give  me 
drink  of  the  water  of  the  well  of  Bethlehem,  which  is  by  the 
gate.”  (II.  Samuel  xxiii.  15.)  To  this  same  place  came  the 
three  mighty  men,  who  “brake  through  the  host  of  the  Phil- 
istines, and  drew  water  out  of  the  well  of  Bethlehem,”  and 
carried  it  to  David  in  the  cave  of  Aclullam.  “ Nevertheless 
he  would  not  drink  thereof,  but  poured  it  out  unto  the  Lord.” 

It  was  late  at  night  when  we  turned  away  from  the  Church 
of  the  Nativity  and  rode  out  of  Bethlehem.  With  regrets 


36 


562 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


to  leave  this  tender  spot  we  gave  the  monk  a few  pieces  of 
coin,  thanked  him  kindly,  and  declined  his  well-meant  oS'er 
of  wine  to  drink ; and  though  it  was  far  in  the  night,  we 
climbed  in  the  saddle  again  and  rode  slowly  past  the  terraced 
hills  covered  with  vines  and  olives  and  figs.  A number  of 
women  and  men,  with  camels,  were  entering  the  town,  coming 
from  Jerusalem.  Thus  was  it  that  the  strangers  from  Naza- 
reth came  here  almost  nineteen  hundred  years  ago,  only  to 
find  shelter  in  the  caravansary.  From  the  elevation  outside 
of  Bethlehem  our  eyes,  through  the  hills  round  about  Jeru- 
salem, caught  sight  of  the  lights  U})on  distant  Mount  Zion, 
toward  which  we  quickened  our  pace.  Thus  from  the  star 
over  Bethlehem  toward  the  lights  of  Zion  we  found  our  way 
onward  to  our  journey’s  end.  It  was  far  into  the  night  when 
we  entered  the  gate  of  Jerusalem,  which  now  stands  always 
open,  and  being  welcomed  to  our  hotel  found  rest  from  the 
hard  journey  of  the  day.  Though  I had  ridden  over  forty-six 
miles,  and  toiled  hard  for  sixteen  hours,  still  of  the  days 
brightest  in  memory  there  will  be  none  brighter  than  the 
one  which  permitted  me  to  look  once  on  Hebron  and  twice 
on  Bethlehem. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


Climate  of  Palestine — Wood  — Products  of  Palestine  — Fruits  — Silks — 
Cotton  — Fig-tree  — Beasts  — Population  — Jews  — Turks — Arabs  — 
Fellahin  — Bedouins  — Costumes — Women  — Salutations  — Land-ten- 
une  — Taxation. 


ALESTINE  has  seen  a better  day.  The  pools  and 
aqueducts  and  cisterns  and  ruins  of  cities,  all  tell  of 


^ a glory  that  has  faded  from  the  land  which  once 
“ flowed  with  milk  and  honey,”  and  to  tvhich  the  Lord 
led  his  chosen  people  as  unto  a “good  land.”  No  doubt 
there  has  been  a great  change  for  the  worse  in  the  climate  of 
the  country ; and  in  many  places  where  plains  and  mountains 
Avere  once  cheered  with  forests,  now  there  is  utter  barrenness. 
There  are  now  but  few  forests.  In  all  the  southern  country, 
here  and  there  great  oaks,  terebinths,  and  sycamores  stand  as 
sacred  places,  while  no  large  wild  forests  are  to  be  found.  In 
Galilee  there  exist  a fe^v  forests  Avith  undergroAvths.  Still, 
it  must  be  said  that  Palestine  is  almost  destitute  of  Avood.  In 
former  times  it  Avas  doubtless  much  better  timbered,  though 
probably  never  a forest  country.  The  olive,  fig,  lemon,  and 
orange  orchards  in  many  places  show  what  splendid  groAvths 
could  be  produced  under  favorable  conditions,  all  over  the 
land. 

The  climate  of  Palestine  varies  much  as  you  go  north  or 
south,  and  in  different  localities.  At  Jerusalem  the  tempera- 
ture varies,  according  to  Dr.  Barclay’s  register,  from  ninety- 
two  to  twenty-eight  degrees, — four  degrees  below  freezing 
point.  The  mean  temperature  is  sixty-two  and  a half  degrees. 
On  the  higher  mountains  the  snow  lies  a long  time.  We 

found  the  nights  exceedingly  cool,  though  the  heat  from 

563 


564 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


10 : 00  A.  M.  to  3:00  p.  avus  oi^jAressing  and  debilitating. 
From  the  middle  of  March  to  the  middle  of  May  the  season 
is  delightful,  with  occasional  thunder-showers  in  May.  We 
read  ot  those  inanitestations  upon  one  occasion  in  the  “ Avheat 
harvest,”  in  the  time  of  the  sins  of  Israel  in  asking  for  a 
king.  (I.  Samuel  xii.  17.^  Heavy  dcAvs  fall  in  the  night.  In 
the  early  summer  the  land  Avears  a dx'ess  of  beauty.  During 
the  long,  dry  summer  it  is  diflicult  to  imagine  a more  l)anxHi 
and  desolate  land.  In  NoA'ember,  after  a few  shoAvers  of 
rain,  the  fields  soon  become  green  and  beautiful,  and  delicate 
llowers  spring  up  everyAvbere  over  the  valleys  and  hills,  shoAV- 
ing  their  fair  forms  in  perfect  bloom.  The  peaks  of  Hermoii 
and  Lebanon  are  covered  Avith  sm)AV  most  of  the  year.  It  is 
not  uncommon  for  some  snoAv  to  fall  at  Jerusalem,  and  even 
at  Damascus,  during  the  Avinter,  but  it  disappears  in  a short 
time.  The  temperature  in  the  Jordan  valley  is  much  higher 
and  the  climate  unhealthy,  and  the  inhabiiants  are  sicklr. 
Captain  Lynch  says  that  on  the  8th  of  iMay  his  thermometer 
registered  one  hundred  and  ten  degrees  in  the  .shade. 

AVheat  is  cultivated  tliroiighout  the  entire  land,  and  after 
being  ground  it  is  boiled  Avitli  leaven  and  dried  in  cakes  in 
the  sun.  I tried  these  cakes  but  found  them  poor  food,  though 
they  are  the  common  food  of  the  peasantry  of  the  country. 
Barley  is  also  groAvn  in  considerable  quantities.  It  is  mostly 
used  for  cattle.  Corn  is  groAvn  in  the  plains,  and  especially 
in  the  Jordan  A^alley.  It  is  jroorl}'  cultivated  and  produces 
an  ear  one  third  the  average  size  of  an  American  ear  of  corn, 
with  small  shalloAV  grai%.  Olives,  apricot.s,  figs,  and  grapes 
are  the  chief  products.  Pumpkins,  SAveet-potatoes,  Irish  pota- 
toes, and  kindred  A'egetables  are  groAvn,  but  not  to  any  very 
great  size  or  perfection.  M’^e  were,  howeAmr,  able  to  purchase 
moderately  good  potatoes  for  use  during  our  cam^iing  in  the 
countiy.  Grapes,  oranges,  and  lemons  wer  almost  all  the 
time  within  ready  reach.  At  Nazareth  and  other  places  I 
bought  A'ery  large  oranges  at  the  rate  of  three  for  a cent  in 
the  A’alue  of  our  coin.  Tobacco  is  groAvn  in  large  quantities 
in  Syria,  and  I saAV  a number  of  cotton-fields,  from  Avhich  cot- 


PRODUCTS  OF  PALESTINE. 


565 


ton  was  being  picked.  Much  of  this  cotton  is  manufactured 
by  hand  into  coarse  fabrics.  Silk  is  also  produced  with 
profit.  The  worms  are  fed  on  the  mulberry-tree,  of  which  I 
saw  many  beautiful  orchards.  This  has  continued  from  the 
sixth  century,  when  Justinian  is  said  to  have  introduced  the 
growing  of  silk  by  taking  the  silk-worm  eggs  from  central 
Asia.  The  silk  is  sjmn  by  hand  and  woven  in  the  rudest  kind 
of  looms.  I saw  a number  of  those  old-fashioned  looms  at 
Beyroot  and  Damascus.  The  silks,  finely  strijied  with  gayest 
colors,  are  sold  in  the  silk-bazaars,  and  furnisli  beautiful  adorn- 
ments for  the  heads  of  the  Bedouins.  These  silk-handker- 
chiefs are  the  most  beautiful  products  of  art  I saw  in  all 
Palestine.  The  finest  specimens  were  seen  at  Damascus.  Cu- 
cumbers, as  well  as  onions,  lettuce,  etc.,  are  great  favorites 
with  the  common  peasant-jieople,  all  of  which  they  eat  raw. 

The  fig-tree  is  abundantly  grown  in  all  parts  of  the  land, 
and  the  jjoor  people  are  pleased  to  find  food  from  this  historic 
tree.  The  fig-tree,  like  the  olive,  lives  and  grows  throughout 
the  long  dry  summer.  The  first  crop  is  borne  in  June,  a sec- 
ond in  August,  and  a third  as  late  as  October  and  November. 
The  parable  of  the  ‘‘fig-tree”  is  one  of  the  most  soul-stirring 
parables  of  our  Lord.  (Luke  xiii.  6-9.)  The  fig-tree  has  a 
beautiful  yellowish-green  leaf  as  large  as  a man’s  hand,  and 
presents  a very  beautifirl  appearance.  The  fruit  usually 
forms  on  the  tree  after  the  appearance  of  the  leaves,  though 
Dr.  Thompson  says  he  has  kno\vn  the  fruit  to  come  even  ear- 
lier than  the  leaves.  So  Christ  expected  it,  as  we  learn  from 
his  conduct  as  related  by  the  evangelist  (iMark  xi.  13) ; for 
“seeing  a fig-tree  afar  off,  having  leaves,  he  came  if  haply  he 
might  find  anything  thereon.”  It  is  presumable  that  the  tree 
withered  immediately,  though  the  (li.«ci])les  did  not  notice  it 
until  the  next  morning.  Probably  they  crossed  Olivet  to  Jeru- 
salem by  the  steeper  nmte  but  returned  to  Bethany  by  the  eas- 
ier, southern  road,  and  did  not  pass  by  the  tree  in  the  evening. 

The  domestic  animals  are  the  sheep,  goat,  camel,  donkey, 
horse,  and  cow.  Of  these  I have  spoken  elsewhere.  Ducks 
are  numerous  along  the  Jordan,  while  the  domestic  hen  is 


566 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


very  common  in  all  purls  of  Palestine.  The  hen  is  one  third 
smaller  than  the  ordinary  American  chicken.  We  were  for- 
tunate enough  to  be  well  supplied  with  eggs  and  chickens 
during  most  of  our  journey  in  Palestine.  Little  honey  is 
noAV  produced,  and  the  milk  and  butter  of  the  countiy  are 
poor  indeed.  We  found  hut  little  use  for  their  butter. 

The  population  of  Palestine  is  made  up  of  Arabs,  Turk.s, 
Jews,  and  a few  Luropeans.  The  Jews  in  Palestine  are  far 
from  that  lordly  nation  which  we  i)icture  to  our  fancies  as 
worthy  descendants  of  Abraham,  l.saac,  and  Jacob.  They  in- 
habit the  larger  towns,  being  found  chiefly  in  Jerusalem, 
Safed,  and  Tiberias.  It  is  estimated  that  there  are  about  eight 
thousand  Jews  in  Jerusalem,  and  probably  forty  thousand  in 
Palestine  and  Syria.  No  correct  census  is  taken  of  the  pop- 
ulation of  the  country,  and  statistics  are.  largely  made  up  by 
conjecture,  which  to  the  writer  seem  to  be  always  too  large. 
Of  course  these  Jews  are  not  natives  of  the  country,  but  are 
from  foreign  countries.  They  are  from  Germany,  Russia,  Po- 
land, Spain,  and  other  countries,  and  largely  maintain  their 
citizenship  in  the  countries  from  which  they  came  in  order  to 
secure  the  protection  of  the  consuls  from  their  native  coun- 
tries. A considerable  number  are  artisans,  and  others,  Jew-like, 
keep  stands  for  exchanging  money,  and  others  carry  on  busi- 
ness in  the  bazaars.  Many  of  them  are  in  Palestine  as  the 
merest  sentimental  religious  enthusiasts,  and  do  nothing,  be- 
ing extremely  poor  and  supported  by  contributions  from  Eu- 
rope and  America.  They  attend  upon  the  Wailing-Place  of 
the  Jews,  and  mournfully  lead  a strange,  sad  life  in  the  land 
of  their  more  favored  fathers.  They  inhabit  distinct  quarters 
and  seem  to  have  but  little  ambition  for  cleanliness  or  im- 
provement. Still,  it  is  evident  that  from  some  cause  the  Jew's 
are  on  the  increase  in  the  land  of  Abraham.  They  are  cour- 
teous to  strangers  and  hos]?itahle  to  one  another,  but  ignorant 
and  fanatical.  The  thin,  gaunt,  sallow  forms  of  the  Jews,  clad 
in  their  high-colored  cotton  gowns,  and  wearing  a rimless  fur 
cap,  with  here  and  there  a Pharisee  with  his  hair  cut  short 
behind  and  a long  dangling  lock  in  front  of  each  ear,  resent 


TURKS  AND  ARABS. 


567 


figures  which  once  seen  are  never  to  be  forgotten.  Their 
women  aj)pear  on  the  streets  dressed  somewhat  more  like 
Euroj)eans  than  the  women  of  the  country  generally,  with 
uncovered  faces,  hut  wearing  a kind  of  shawl  or  cloth  around 
their  heads  hanging  down  over  the  body.  They  are  said  to 
have  little  security  for  tlieir  place  in  the  home,  being  divorced 
for  the  most  trivial  causes.  In  their  superstition  they  resort 
to  peculiar  methods  to  maintain  the  affections  of  their  hus- 
bands, even  putting  the  trimmings  of  their  finger-nails  and 
hair  in  their  husbands’  food  for  that  desired  end. 

The  Turks  are  perhaps  less  numerous  in  Palestine  than  the 
Jews,  but  constitute  the  ruling  cla^  of  the  country.  The 
riders,  soldiers,  and  tax-collectors  are  usually  chosen  from 
among  the  Turks.  They  ivear  the  ordinary  Turkish  costume, 
with  the  rindoss  red  fez  on  the  head.  One  tenth  of  the  prod- 
ucts of  tlie  land  is  claimed  by  the  sultan ; and  these  Turks 
rob  the  people  of  all  they  can  get,  while  their  courts,  custom- 
houses, and  offices  are  controlled  almost  exclusively  by  brib- 
ery. They  are  IMohammedans  in  faith,  but  not  “ over-mucb  ” 
religious. 

The  Arabs  are  divided  into  two  classes,  the  Fellahin  and 
Bedouins,  the  former  inhabiting  the  towns  and  the  Bedouins 
living  in  tents.  The  Fellah  towns  all  have  sheiks  or  chief 
men,  who  govern  them,  subordinate  to  the  Turkish  authority. 
They  are  a sober,  lordly,  delicate,  and  really  handsome  people. 
Being  strict  Mohammedans,  they  wear  the  fez  and  on  it  a 
white  or  green  turban  or  rag  entwined  about  the  head.  If  the 
person  is  a descendant  of  Mohammed  or  has  been  on  a pilgrim- 
age to  INIecca  he  wears  a green  turban,  otherwise  white.  They 
are  allowed  to  have  as  many  wives  as  they  can  procure  and 
support.  They  seemed  to  be  in  the  country,  during  our  jour- 
ney there,  for  the  specific  purpose  of  annoying  iis,  and  begging 
us  for  backshish.  They  shave  the  hair  off  the  top  of  their 
heads,  and  I frequently  saw  them  outside  the  towns,  seated  by 
the  road-side,  while  a barber  practiced  the  tonsorial  art.  They 
are  given  to  profanity  and  lying.  In  cursing,  they  always 
call  down  bitter  anathemas  upon  the  mother  of  any  person 


568 


THE  HOLY  LAXD. 


or  thing.  An  instance  of  this  method  of  cursing,  in  Old  Tes- 
tament times,  is  shown  in  Saul’s  anger  against  -Jonathan, 
“Thou  son  of  the  perverse,  rebellions  woman.”  (I.  Sam.  xx.  3C.) 
In  begging  of  you  they  are  never  satisfied  or  thankful  II  they 
succeed  in  extorting  brirkAiish,  which  they  will  most  probably 
do,  in.-^tead  of  receiving  it  in 
a pleasing  and  thankful 
manner,  they  always  'do  so 
with  a sullen,  sulky  look  or 
scowl,  which  causes  you  to 
wish  you  had  not  given  it. 

In  some  cases  I knew  them 
to  throw  the  money  given 
upon  the  ground  in  con- 
tein])t,  as  though  it  was  too 
little  to  be  received.  If  the 
giver  proposed  to  pick  it  up 
they  would  usually  change 
their  attitude  and  accept  it. 

The  Bedouins,  a gypsy- 
like people,  who  live  in 
rudely-constructed  tents  (see 
Jiage  349),  give  but  little  FelUh.  oHIENTAL  costumes.  Bedouin, 
attention  to  agriculture,  and  make  their  living  by  growing 
cattle,  sheep,  ami  goats.  'I'hey  have  no  fellowshi^i  with  the 
Fellah  peoi)le,  and  tliey  are  not  allowed  to  intermarry.  They 
however  carry  on  trade  with  the  towns- 
men, exchanging  their  cattle,  goats,  and 
sheep  for  the  products  of  the  Fellahin. 
The  dress  of  the  Bi'douin  is  still  more  sim- 
ple, as  a rule,  than  that  of  the  Fellahin. 
Their  shoes  are  of  red  leather,  crooked  bot- 
tom, and  sharp  toe,  the  same  as  is  worn  by 
SANDAL.  the  townsmen.  A few  wear  the  sandal, 

which  is  a piece  of  wood  or  leather  fastened  upon  the  foot  with 


straps.  Some  of  these  sandals  are  made  of  wood,  and  have 
short  legs  like  a bench  running  down  two  or  three  inches  from 


WOMEN. 


569 


tlie  foot  to  the  ground.  These  seem  to  be  very  unhandy.  Tlie 
red  pointed  shoe  is,  however,  most  worn  by  those  who  do  not 
go  barefooted.  Many  of  the  Bedouin  men  have  only  a white 
cotton  gown,  and  white,  short,  baggy  breeches  fastened  aiound 
the  waist  witli  a draw’-string,  the  legs  coming  down  to  the 
knees,  and  over  these  the  Bedouin  cloak  of  white  and  black 
stripes,  as  shown  in  our  illustration  on  the  oppo^ite  page. 
The  most  attractive  part  of  the  dress  of  the  Bedouin  is  the 
fine,  richly-colored  silk  handkerchief,  which  he  usually  wears 
folded  and  tied  about  his  head  in  the  place  of  the  fez. 

The  women  of  Palestine  present  to  the  traveler  a sorry  fig- 
ure. If  their  real  life  is  as  desolate  and  uninviting  as  their 
appearance  indicates,  then  they  have  indeed  a sad  life-pilgrim- 
age to  the  grave,  with  little  promise  or  hope  of  a better  future 
life.  They  are  the  veriest  slaves  to  the  men,  and  have  im- 
posed upon  them  the  hardest  tasks  of  life  without  the  inspi- 
ration or  joy  known  among  women  who  are  honored  and 
loved  by  their  fathers,  brothers,  and 
husbands.  Those  who  belong  to  the 
more  wealthy  of  the  Fellahin  are 
never  seen  out  of  their  houses  unless 
they  are  closely  veiled,  so  that  their 
appearance  or  face  can  not  be  seen. 
The  Turkish  women  often  appear 
with  a kind  of  white  sheet  cover- 
ing their  faces  and  entire  persons. 
Many  of  them  wear  a veil  or  head- 
covering coming  down  to  the  eyes; 
then  another  veil  coming  up  to  the 
nose.  These  are  coupled  together 
WOMAN  VEILED.  with  a strlug  running  through  a 
hollow  brass  tube  alrout  the  size  of  a thread-spool,  with  four 
or  five  sharp  fangs  around  it  setting  on  the  nose.  Many  of 
them  color  their  faces  with  soot  and  other  substances,  while 
others  have  their  faces  sadly  disfigured  by  tattooing,  and  with 
rings  hanging  from  one  side  of  their  noses.  The  women  are 
very  fond  of  ornaments  of  silver,  such  as  coins  and  rings  of. 


570 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


glass,  which  are  worn  about  the  neck  and  on  the  wrists  and 
arms.  The  common  peasant-women  do  not  wear  veils.  A 
single  blue  cotton  gown  which  harel}'  covers  their  person,  with 
a girdle  about  the  waist,  is  the  chief  part  of  their  dress  as  they 
appear  about  the  camp  or  the  town,  or  on  the  way  to  market. 
They  are  never  seen  walking  beside  tbeir  husbands,  but  always 
trudging  along  behind.  They  usually  i)ay  no  attention  to  the 
traveler,  but  occasionally  ask  for  backshish.  It  is  considered 
no  insult  for  you  to  salute  them  or  speak  to  them.  No  atten- 
tion is  paid  to  the  education  of  girls,  and  from  an  early 
period  in  life  they  are  assigned  to  the  hardest  of  toil.  A num- 
ber of  times  when  we  were  camped  near  a town  we  found  it 
necessary  to  contract  with  some  one  to  furnish  us  water  for 
culinary  and  camp  purposes.  A well-dressed  man  would 
agree  to  furnish  the  needed  supply  for  a stipulated  sum,  and 
then  he  w'ould  put  his  women  or  girls  to  the  task  of  carry- 
ing it  from  the  distant  fountain.  Upon  one  occasion  this 
sheik  sat  in  our  camir  smoking  his  nargile  and  conversing 
with  our  camp  attendants  until  nine  or  ten  o’clock  in  the 
night,  while  h’s  delicate  girls,  not  over  ten  or  twelve  years 
old,  filled  his  contract  by  carrying  water  in  great  jars  on  their 
heads  from  a spring  half  a mile  distant. 

The  usual  method  of  salutation  in  Palestine,  Syria,  and 
Egypt,  is  by  three  gestures  of  the  hand  and  arm.  The  first 
brings  tbe  band  to  the  heart,  the  second  to  the  lips,  and  the 
third  to  the  forehead  with  a graceful  move  toward  the  person 
saluted,  similar  to  our  military  salutation.  It  is  probably  an 
abbreviation,  so  to  speak,  of  tbe  custom  of  taking  the  skirts  of 
the  garment  worn  by  the  one  saluted  and  putting  them  to  the 
lips  and  kissing  them.  They  do  not  shake  hands  or  nece.ssa- 
rily  s])eak,  but  go  through  these  gestures.  If  a slight  token  of 
resjiect  is  showm,  only  one,  or  at  most  two  movements  of  the 
hand  will  be  given,  but  the  three  show  the  full  and  respectful 
salutation.  We  were  greeted  with  this  hearty  salutation  in 
almost  all  parts  of  the  country.  The  people  sometimes  kiss 
each  other,  but  the  Arabs  often  put  their  foreheads  together 
and  smack  their  lips  as  if  they  were  kissing.  They  ne\'er 


TAX  A TION. 


571 


remove  their  fez  from  the  head  in  respect  for  either  person  or 
place,  but  wear  it  all  the  time  in  the  house  and  out  of  doors, 
hut  they  remove  their  shoes  when  approaching  a sacred  place, 
or  entering  a mosque  for  prayer. 

The  lands  of  the  country  are  in  part  owned  by  the  Turkish 
sultan,  and  some  by  individuals,  and  some  by  mosques  and 
Mohammedan  institutions.  The  purchase  of  lands  by  secur- 
ing good  titles  is  very  difficult.  Where  owned  by  individuals 
or  families  there  is  no  end  to  the  owners  of  the  land,  and 
when  the  jmrchaser  supposes  he  has  paid  for  and  secured  the 
interests  of  all  parties  in  the  land,  there  soon  appears  some  new 
relative  who  claims  his  share.  It  is  related  by  Conder  that  a 
Greek  banker  named  Sursuk,  because  of  his  claims  on  the 
Turkish  government,  was  allowed  to  purchase  the  northern 
part  of  the  Plain  of  Esdraelon,  embracing  seventy  square  miles, 
including  some  small  towns,  for  twenty  thousand  pounds, — 
one  hundred  thousand  dollars.  The  taxes  were  such  on  these 
lands  that  he  realized  on  an  average  from  the  twenty  vil- 
lages, twenty  thousand  dollars  alone,  while  the  entire  income 
reached  about  sixW  thousand  dollars  p6r  annum. 

The  taxes  are  assessed  before  the  crops  are  taken ; and  no  per- 
son is  allowed  to  gather  his  crop  until  the  levy  is  made,  even 
if  the  officers  delay  their  coming  until  it  falls  into  the  ground. 
Thus  the  poor  peasants  are  sometimes  compelled  to  give  half 
of  their  earnings  to  bribe  the  officers  to  come  and  assess  the 
crops  and  allow  them  to  gather  them.  From  the  times  of 
Christ  until  now  the  people  of  Palestine  have  been  destroyed 
by  the  tax-gatherers.  “ The  l\Iiri  tax  has  been  definitely  fixed, 
without  regard  to  the  difference  of  the  harvests  in  good  and 
bad  years.  This  again  is  a crying  evil,  and  leads  to  the  ruin 
of  many  a village.  At  Kurawa,  in  1873,  the  people  told  me, 
with  tears  in  their  eyes,  that  the  olive-crop  had  been  so  poor 
that  the  value  was  not  as  much  as  the  amount  of  the  tax 
about  to  be  collected.  The  taxes  are  also  very  unevenly  as- 
sessed. In  one  case  four  thousand  acres  paid  one  hundred 
and  forty  pounds;  in  another,  six  thousand  acres  paid  .sixty- 
five  pounds;  in  a third,  three  thousand  acres  paid  three  hun- 


572 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


dred  and  twent}’’  pounds.  The  taxes  are  brought  into  the 
towns  by  the  Baslii-Bazouks.  Sometimes  the  Kaimakam  will 
himself  make  a tour  to  collect  them,  and  he,  Avith  all  his  fol- 
lowers, is  received  as  an  honored  guest,  and  fed  and  housed 
at  the  village  expense.  The  soldiers  also  live  at  free  quarters, 
and  exact  money  under  a variety  of  pretexts  from  the  luck- 
less villagers,  who  have  no  man  to  speak  for  them.”  {Tent- 
]Vo7'k  in  Palestine,  page  333.) 

Thus  the  people  are  reduced  to  great  poA’erty,  and  com- 
pelled to  live  in  the  rudest  and  most  frugal  manner.  Dr. 
Wilson,  our  consul  at  Jerusalem  at  the  time  of  our  visit  there, 
told  the  writer  that  he  believed  an  average  peasant-family 
would  subsist  an  entire  year  on  what  might  be  purchased 
for  fifty  dollars.  Fro  a what  I saw  it  seems  probable  that  this 
estimate  is  not  too  low.  If  there  is  to  be  the  dawn  of  a 
brighter  day  for  God's  chosen  land, — the  land  of  Canaan,— the 
foot  of  the  Turk  must  cease  to  press  the  soil.  The  sentiments, 
ideas,  and  foriiis  of  government  Avhich  have  been  built  by 
Christianity  in  the  Western  World  must  be  brought  again  to 
this  land  of  the  fathers,  from  which  Christianity  Avas  cast  out, 
and  in  which  Christ  Avas  rejected  and  crucified;  and  here  they 
must  be  enshrined  and  given  dominion  and  poAver,  until  He 
comes  Avhose  right  it  is  to  reign. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 


Church  in  Jerusalem — T^eaviiig  iho  IIol\'  City — Troulrlo  with  tlie  Driver — 
Last  View  of  Jerusalem  — House  of  Obecl-cdom — Kirjath-Jeariin  — 
Valley  of  Ajalon  — Latrim — Ilamleh  — Tower  of  the  P’ort^’  — Plains 
of  Sliaron  — Jopira  — Simon’s  House — Orange-Orclianls — Mohamme- 
dan Funeral  — Ships  of  the  Desert — -Thanksgiving  Dinner  — Leaving 
Joppa. 


WO  heard  an  English  sernion. 
^ alternately 


r;.  URIXG  the  writer's  stay  in  Jerusalem  ho  attended 
Protestant  Ejtiscopal  Clmreli  in  company  with 
Dr.  Wilson,  our  consul, ^ on  Sabbath  morning,  when 


The  church  is  supplied 
from  the  English  and  GtJrman  churches. 
There  was  a good  congregation  for  Jerusalem.  The 
liturgical  service  efnbraccd  one  hour  and  five  minutes,  and 
the  sermon  thirty-seven  minutes,  upon  the  text,  “Our  God 
is  a consuming  fire.”  The  discourse  was  able  in  thought, 
with  a good  degree  of  annihilation  doctrine  in  it. 

Da}"  after  day  the  writer  and  his  associates  in  the  journey 
wandered  around  the  city  and  through  its  narrow,  crowded, 
crooked,  filthy  streets,  visiting  one  sacred  jdacc  after  another. 
I often  slipped  away  from  the  company  and  returned  to  some 
interesting  spot  for  a second  or  a third  observation.  Thus  I 
frequently  taxed  the  patience  of  dragoman  and  guide,  as  well 
as  the  company.  But  their  patience  and  kindness  were  sufli- 
cient.  In  all  the  journey  I did  not  miss  the  steamer,  the 
cars,  the  horses,  the  donkey,  or  anything  because  of  tardiness. 
Thanks  to  the  promptings  of  the  company,  or  I might  have 
been  left  behind  and  not  reached  America  to  put  my  notes 
and  observations  together  so  as  to  form  these  pages. 

573 


574 


THE  IIOTA’  LAND. 


Too  soon  the  hour  came  when  we  were  to  leave  the  Holy 
City.  I had  very  many  times  wished  that  some  of  my  deare.st 
friends  in  America  could  be  with  me  to  behold  these  scenes. 
Nor  can  I forget  how  fresh  and  cheering  and  blessed  came 
letters  from  far-off  home-land  and  loved  ones.  Though  those 
letters  were  really  a month  old,  they  were  fresh  as  a lily. 
^^’hile  the  thoughts  turned  toward  far-oft'  scenes  aiid  loved 
ones,  still  there  was  pain  to  the  heart  when  the  days  lirought 
the  last  hour  in  Jerusalem,  which  was  spent  in  packing  valise, 
rolls,  and  bundles,  and  jireparing  for  the  journey  homewai'd. 

At  noon  on  the  22d  of  Xovemher  stout  Aral)s  came  to  our 
hotel  and  took  up  our  baggage  and  carried  it  out  Damascus 
Street  and  out  of  Damascus  Gate,  where  wagons  were  to  be  in 
waiting  for  us.  No  vehicles  of  any  kind  for  the  carrying  of 
burdens  enter  the  city — nothing  for  this  use  but  camels,  doir- 
keys,  men,  and  poor  women.  Our  baggage  was  in  the  wagons ; 
and  we  were  really  to  have  a wagon-ride  in  the  Holy  Land. 
Fi'om  Jerusalem  to  Yafa  there  is  a good  road,  over  which 
wagons  run  daily.  This  is  the  only  wagon-road  in  Palestine. 
We  were  tearing  away  from  a sacred  place.  Subdued  emo- 
tions settled  the  heart  down  to  a quiet  and  an  awe  as  we 
drove  slowly  westward  with  the  great  city  wall  on  our  left. 
As  the  hill  is  ascended  the  city  is  full  in  view,  and  beyond  it 
the  majestic  mount  of  Olives.  We  are  past  the  city  and  where 
we  see  the  hills  on  the  way  before  us.  One  i^oint  after  another 
is  quickly  scanned  from  which  we  sujjpose  the  last  view  of 
the  Holy  City  must  be  taken.  Meantime  every  moment  is  em- 
ployed in  scanning  the  city,  which  has  become  more  and  more 
interesting  every  day,  and  from  which  we  part  so  reluctantly. 

Perhaps  amid  the  awful  grandeur  of  Olivet,  of  Mount  Mo- 
riah, of  Mount  Zion,  or  of  the  Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulcher, 
we  have  become  superstitious.  But  suddenly  our  wagon  stops  ! 
The  man  will  not  go  a peg  farther.  We  can  not  understand 
what  he  is  gabbling  about  with  the  dragoman.  We  might  have 
known.  He  wants  more  backshish.  Of  course  there  was  a fair 
bargain  wdth  him,  and  his  team  furnished  and  all  to  order; 
but  he  thinks  we  will  “take  up  a collection.”  He  is  mistaken. 


LAST  r/A’ir  OF  JERUSALEM. 


575 


Our  dragoman  lias  done  us  good  service  as  a guide,  interpreter, 
and  all  that;  and  how  he  does  light  here!  We  did  not  know 
he  had  that  kind  of  manhood  in  him.  It  was  a full  hour  that 
we  lost  in  this  parley.  The  oflicials^ were  summoned  to  arrest 
us.  IMore  than  a hundred  and  fifty  people  gathered  about  us. 
They  talked  and  gestured  at  a round  rate,  and  seemed  all  to 
be  against  us.  When  our  dragoman  informed  the  .officials 
that  we  were  Americans  and  could  not  be  molested  or  hin- 
dered in  our  journey,  and  that  he  would  carry  on  the  battle 
in  our  interests,  they  turned  sheepishly  to  their  (piarters. 
Meantime  we  had  secured  another  wagon  and  were  ready  to 
proceed.  We  learned  that  it  was  no  mean  thing,  even  under 
the  shadows  of  the  walls  of  Jerusalem,  to  be  a citizen  of  the 
country  over  which  float  the  stars  and  stripes.  This  little 
incident  threw  me  out  of  my  reverie  and  destroyed  any  traces 
of  superstition. 

Our  first  full  view  of  Jerusalem  was  from  the  delightful 
summit  of  Mount  Olivet,  directly  eastward  from  the  city;  our 
last  sight  was  from  a hill  over  a mile  north-west  of  the  city. 
Here  we  had  a little  time  to  gaze  upon  the  walls  and  towers 
and  domes  and  minarets  of  the  Holy  City,  and  upon  the 
sacred  mount  of  Olives  beyond.  Then  Ave  quickly  drove  over 
the  summit  of  the  hill,  and  tbis  city  of  ages,  the  city  of  re- 
nown, the  home  of  kings,  the  most'  revered  and  loved  city  of 
the  world,  the  type  of  heaven,  was  out  of  sight  forever. 

Our  Avay  lay  by  a winding  road,  over  many  hills,  before  we 
reached  the  Valley  of  Ajalon,  on  the  borders  of  the  Plain  of 
Sharon.  When  we  had  traveled  nearly  an  hour  Ave  found 
ourselves  in  a great  valley,  called  Wady  Kuloniyeh,  from  Avhich 
on  the  east  and  Avest  the  hills  rise,  now  in  gentle  slopes  and 
then  in  higher  shoulders.  The  vast  elevations  on  Avhich  seA^- 
eral  tOAvns  are  visible,  surrounded  by  olive-orchards,  spread 
out  a worthy  theater  for  pageants  and  battles.  In  the  Avady  a 
stream  floAvs  down  most  of  the  year,  which  is  spanned  bj"  an 
ai’ched  stone  bridge.  On  these  great  slopes  the  armies  of  Israel 
once  lay  encamped,  Avhile  the  Philistines  lay  over  against 
them,  with  a valley  betAveen  them.  Goliath  came  out  morning 


576 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


and  evening  for  forty  clays  to  defy  the  armies  of  the  living 
God,  when  David  the  sheplierd,  son  of  Jesse,  came  from  Beth- 
lehem with  his  sack  of  parched  corn,  his  ten  loaves  and  cheese 
for  his  brethren  who  cvere  in  the  army.  From  this  brook  he 
chose  the  smooth  stones,  with  one  of  which  he  smote  the  giant 
in  the  forehead  and  he  fell  down  slain  in  the  valley  in  full 
sight  of  the  armies  on  either  hill-side.  (I.  Samuel  xvii.  1-54.) 
. After  traveling  a ha,lf  hour  over  these  hills,  we  passed  by  a 
round  hill,  just  to  the  north  of  the  road,  on  which  are  a few 
ruins.  It  is  here  that  the  house  of  Ohed-edom  is  believed  to 
have  stood,  into  which  the  ark  of  the  covenant  was  carried 
when  D ivid  feared  to  take  it  farther.  (II.  Samuel,  vi.  10,  11.) 
They  had  it  on  a new  cart ; but  the  oxen  shook  it,  and  Uzzah, 
thinking  he  could  take  care  of  the  ark  hotter  than  the  Lord, 
put  forth  Ids  hand  to  steady  it,  but  was  smitten  with  death 
by  the  side  of  the  ark.  So  it  was  that  they  bore  the  ark  up 
this  conical  hill  and  lodged  it  in  the  house  of  Obed-cdom, 
where  it  remained  three  montlis.  Xow  the  hill  is  barren,  and 
bald  ruins  cover  it — for  that  was  a long  time  ago  when  David 
and  the  ark  were  here.  Still,  we  remember  that  the  record 
says,  “ And  it  •was  told  King  David,  saying.  The  Lord  hath 
bles.sed  the  house  of  Obed-edom,  and  all  that  pertaineth  unto 
him,  because  of  the  ark  of  God.”  (II.  Samuel  vi.  12.') 

After  traveling  about  three  miles  farther  toward  Joppa,  we 
came  to  Abu  Gosh,  as  it  is  now  called,  a town  of  about  fifty 
houses.  This  is  the  ancient  Kirjath-Jearim,  where  the  ark  of 
the  covenant  abode  for  a long  time.  The  people  of  Kirjath- 
Jearim  went  down  to  Bethshemesh  and  brought  the  ark  here 
after  it  had  been  seven  months  in  the  hands  of  the  Philis- 
tinesy  and  all  this  time  the  sure  token  of  distress  and  death 
wherever  it  was  taken.  (I.  Samuel  vii.  2.)  Here  is  an  old 
chAirch,  built  probably  by  the  Crusaders.  It  was  a vast  and 
crund  structure.  It  vet  shows  its  double  basilica  form  and  is 
covered  with  stone.  Its  mosaics  and  beauties  have  been 
destroyed.  A number  of  beautiful  palm-trees  grow  close  about 
it.  The  town  is  situated  on  the  north-Avest  side  of  the  hill. 

Almost  northward  from  Kirjath-Jearim,  on  the  road  from 


VALLEY  OF  AJALON. 


bll 


Jerusalem  to  Joppa  by  Avay  of  Lydda,  is  El  ILubeibeh,  a town 
of  considerable  ruins,  wliicli  has  been  regarded  for  several 
centuries  as  the  Eiumaus  mentioned  by  the  evangelist  as 
being  “from  Jerusalem  about  three-seore  furlongs.”  (Luke 
xxiv.  13.)  It  was  tb.e  place  to  which  Jesus  journeyed  with 
two  of  his  disciples  on’the  day  of  his  resurrection.  Some  have 
erroneously  located  this  place  at  Kuloniyeh,  by  which  we  pass 
in  going  from  Jerusalem  to  Kirjath-Jearim.  But  this  place  is 
too  near  the  city.  Others  have  located  Emmaus  at  Amioas, 
north  of  Latrun ; but  this  is  twenty  miles  from  the  city. 
Lieutenant  Conder,  in  the  first  part  of  his  book,  advocates 
this  place,  but  farther  on  he  gives  an  account  of  the  discovery 
of  what  he  regards  as  the  site  of  Emmaus  at  Khamasa,  south- 
west of  Jerusalem,  on  the  way  toward  Gaza.  It  is  like  Kubei- 
heh,  about  sixty  furlongs  from  the  Holy  City;  and  Lieutenant 
Conder  undertakes  to  trace  its  name  from  Khammnth,  which 
means  “a  hot  bath,”  from  which  Emmaus  is  derived.  Kha- 
masa  Avould  be  an  easy  corruption  of  K harnmath.  This  view 
has  much  that  is  worthy  of  consideration. 

Before  the  night-fall  was  uj)on  us  we  could  see  from  the  hill- 
tops the  distant  sea  and  the  broad,  beautiful  2^Lain  of  Sharon 
stretching  along  the  coast.  But  unlike  the  orb  of  day  in  the 
time  of  Joshua,  the  sun  refused  to  stand  still  in  the  Valley 
of  Ajalon,  to  prolong  the  enchanting  view  to  our  delighted 
eyes. 

The  Valley  of  Ajalon  is  an  interesting,  historic  spot.  The 
confederate  kings  here  once  made  war  upon  Gibeon.  The 
Gibeonites  sent  word  to  Joshua,  who  was  camped  on  the  plain 
of  Jericho,  that  all  the  kings  of  the  Amorites  were  come  up 
against  them  because  of  the  peaceful  treaty  they  had  made 
with  him.  All  the  night  long,  by  a forced  march,  Joshua 
came  from  the  region  near  Jericho,  and  when  the  morning 
dawned  his  mighty  men  of  valor  smote  the  armies  of  the  five 
kings  until  they  fled  beyond  the  hills.  As  the  sun  was  sink- 
ing over  Gibeon,  the  retreating  armies  fled  across  the  valley. 
“Then  spake  Joshua  to  the  Lord  in  the  day  when  the  Lord 
delivered  up  the  Amorites  before  the  children  of  Israel,  and 

37 


578 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


he  said  in  the  sight  of  Israel,  Sun,  stand  thou  still  upon 
Gibeon ; and  thou.  Moon,  in  the  Valley  of  Ajalon.  And  the 
sun  stood  still,  and  the  moon  stayed,  until  the  people  had 
avenged  themselves  upon  their  enemies.  Is  not  this  written 
in  the  book  of  Jasher?  So  the  sun  stood  still  in  the  midst  of 
heaven,  and  hasted  not  to  go  down  about  a whole  day.  And 
there  was  no  day  like  that  before  it  or  after  it,  that  the  Lord 
hearkened  unto  the  voice  of  a man : for  the  Lord  fought  for 
Israel.”  (.loshua  x.  12-14.)  The  Valley  of  Ajalon  is  a beau- 
tiful cove  in  the  borders  of  the  mountainous  or  hilh'  country, 
extending  four  or  five  miles  in  either  direction.  Its  westward 
boundary  connects  with  the  Sharon  plain. 

Here  at  Latrun,  about  eighteen  miles  from  .Jerusalem,  we 
passed  the  night  in  a comfortable  hotel.  The  next  morning 
we  were  out  early,  destined  to  reach  Yaffa,  tlie  ancient  Joppa, 
before  the  sun  should  go  down  beyond  the  sea.  This  day  took 
us  eighteen  miles  across  the  Sharon  p)lain,  the  most  beautiful 
in  all  Palestine.  We  spent  an  hour  or  more  at  Ramleh,  a 
town  on  the  ])lain,  containing  a population  of  three  or  four 
thousand.  The  country  around  is  beautiful  and  productive. 
There  are  great  cactus-hedges  around  the  fields  and  orchards. 
Here  are  luxuriant  orchards  filled  with  olives,  sycamores, 
carob-trees,  and  palm-trees.  A thousand  or  more  years  ago  it 
was  a powerful  city,  rivaling  Jerusalem  itself.  Coming  into 
Ramleh,  for  many  miles  we  passed  scores  of  peo])le  going  to 
market.  It  must  have  been  a great  day.  Hundreds  of  women 
were  coming  to  town  loaded  with  figs,  oranges,  barley,  grapes, 
corn,  wheat,  mutton,  beef,  sugar-cane,  cakes,  olives,  lemons, 
pumpkins, — indeed  with  almost  everything  that  could  be  pro- 
duced in  that  country.  l\Iost  of  them  were  barefooted  and 
had  on  a single  blue  cotton  gown,  and  a covering  for  their 
face,  while  a great  load  of  jwoduce  was  piled  up  in  a kind  of 
tray  or  basket  placed  upon  the  top  of  their  heads.  Many  of 
them,  besides  these  burdens  on  their  heads  and  others  on  their 
backs  and  great  loads  stuck  in  their  bosoms,  had  little  chil- 
dren astride  their  shoulders.  Sometimes  two  or  three  women- 
were  together,  sometimes  half  a dozen,  and  often  as  many  aS; 


TOWER  OF  THE  FORTY. 


579 


twenty  were  in  one  company.  Often  the  company,  whethei 
large  or  small,  was  headed  by  a stout,  well-dressed  man,  who 
rode  a donkev  in  comfort,  smoking  his  pi[)e,  while  his  women 
followed  along  behind.  Could  the  women  of  Christendom  .see 
these  j>oor  slaves  ot  ^lohammedanism,  compcdled  by  their  con- 
dition to  sustain  the  i\“laiion  ot  wite  and  mother  under  influ- 
ences and  circumstances  which  have  nothing  like  those  which 
womanhood  enjovs  in  fair  America,  they  would  more  and 
more  appreciate  their  blessed  state,  and  labor  more  through 
missionary  agencies  to  build  up  womanhood  in  the  sorrowful 
ends  of  the  earth. 

There  is  a grand  old  tower  at  Ranileh,  naim'd  the  ‘‘  Tower 
of  the  Forty,”  from  the  tradition  that  forty  martyrs  were 

buried  here.  The  tower 
was  probably  a part  of  an 
ancient  mosque,  though 
one  can  hardly  convince 
himself  that  the  structure 
does  not  belong  to  the 
period  of  the  Cru.saders. 
Old  broken  walls  connect 
with  the  tow'er,  and  a vast 
burial  - ground  surrounds 
the  place.  Ramleh  is  sup- 
posed, and  traditionally 
held,  to  have  been  the 
home  of  Joseph  of  Ariraa- 
thea,  who  assisted  at  the 
burial  of  Christ. 

From  the  top  of  the 
tower,  which  is  a hundred 
feet  high,  we  had  a grand 
view  of  all  the  Sharon 
TowEK  OF  THE  poKTY  - RAMLEH.  plain.  Far  on  the  west 
was  the  blue  Mediterranean  spreading  out  like  the  sky  ; south- 
ward and  northward  the  beautiful  fertile  plain  stretching  along 
the  sea;  while  to  the  east  were  the  blue  and  barren  mountains 


580 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


of  Judea.  North-east,  four  or  five  miles  away,  the  white  houses 
of  Lydda  appear  above  the  olives  and  palms.  Once  Peter 
went  there  “to  the  saints  which  dwelt  at  Lydda.”  “And 
Peter  said  unto  him,  Eneas,  Jesus  Christ  maketh  thee  whole: 
arise,  and  make  thy  bed.  And  he  arose  immediately.  And 
all  that  dwelt  at  Lydda  and  Saron  saw  him,  and  turned  to 
the  Lord.”  (Acts  ix.  34,  35.)  Then  a great  revival  followed, 
which  had  barely  closed  when  the  tidings  came  up  from 
Joppa  to  Peter  that  Dorcas  was  dead;  and  in  the  sorrow  of 
the  church  the  brethren  de.sired  that  he  would  not  delay  to 
come  to  them.  Far  to  the  north  are  the  mountains  of  Galilee, 
the  giant  of  which  is  Carmel,  thrusting  its  bold  form  out  to 
the  very  sea.  This  is  the  finest  view  of  the  plain  to  be 
secured  in  all  the  land. 

From  Ramleh  we  hurried  acro.ss  the  plain,  and  then  through 
the  great  orchards  of  lemons  and  oranges,  which  grow  luxuri- 
antly all  about  Joppa,  and  were  in  the  ancient  sea -port  of 
Jerusalem. 

Joppa  is  mentioned  under  the  name  of  “ Japho,”  nearly 
fifteen  hundred  years  before  Christ.  (Joshua  xix.  46.)  It 
was  to  this  port  that  Hiram,  king  of  Tyre,  proposed  to  Solo- 
omon  to  bring,  on  “ floats  by  sea,”  wood  from  Lebanon  for  the 
Temple.  And  from  here  Solomon  was  to  “carry  it  up  to  Je- 
rusalem.” (II.  Chronicles  ii.  16.)  Two  hundred  years  later  it 
was  from  this  inhospitable  harbor  that  Jonah  sailed  out  on 
his  way  to  Tarshish,  fleeing  from  the  command  of  the  Lord 
to  go  to  Nineveh  and  proclaim  the  destruction  of  that  city. 
(Jonah  i.  3.)  Here  at  Joppa  dwelt  Tabitha,  named  also  Dorcas, 
whom  Peter  raised  from  the  dead.  Her  benevolence  and  care 
for  the  destitute  had  given  her  such  a place  in  the  affections 
of  the  people  that  they  sent  to  Lydda  for  the  apostle.  And 
so  it  was,  in  the  early  days  of  Christianity,  that  the  minister 
of  Christ  was  needed  in  the  hour  of  affliction  and  death.  It 
is  exceedingly  fortunate  if  the  minister  of  Christ  knows  how 
to  enter  the  home  of  death,  and  what  words  to  speak.  It  is 
a great  trial  to  one  to  enter  a group  of  sorrowing  ones  who 
weep  for  the  dead.  It  was  so  no  doubt  with  Peter.  “ When  he 


JOPPA. 


581 


was  come,  they  brought  liim  into  the  upi>er  chamber:  and  all 
the  widows  stood  by  him  weeping,  and  showing  the  coats  and 
garments  which  Dorcas  made,  while  she  was  with  them.’’ 
(Acts  ix.  39.)  After  kneeling  down  and  pouring  out  his 
heart  to  God  in  prayer,  Peter  presented  Tabitha  alive  to  the 
saints  and  widows. 


~ ~~  1 

■ 

— 

m 

ms 

JOPPA. 


Here  at  -Toppa.  by  the  sea-side,  lived  the  benevolent  Simon, 
at  whose  house  Peter  lodged.  The  house  of  “ Simon,  the  tan- 
ner,” is  still  pointed  out  on  the  rocky  shore  of  the  sea,  and  to 
it  we  paid  an  interesting  visit.  It  is  built  of  stone,  has  several 
apartments,  and  a flat  stone  roof,  which  is  reached  by  narrow 
stone  steps  from  the  court,  in  which  is  a well  and  a huge 


582 


rilE  HOLY  LAXD. 


stone  sarco])hagus,  used  as  a trougli  for  the  Avater.  The  entire 
features  of  the  place,  with  the  ancient  traditions,  much  in- 
cline one  to  hclieve  tliat  this  house-toj)  is  indeed  the  very  spot 
to  which  Peter  ri'tired  for  2>rayer  when  tlie  great  sheet  was  let 
down  h(‘fore  him,  the  lessons  of  which  were  to  prepare  him  to 
go  to  the  house  of  Cornelius  and  teach  him  the  way  of  salva- 
tion. (Acts  X.  9-18.)  I had  as  long  a time  on  the  house-top 
as  was  desired,  and  then  was  permitted  to  go  through  the  in- 
terior, which  is  now  kej)t  as  a Mohammedan  mosque. 

Joppa  is  built  upon  a hill,  or  great  rock,  on  the  very  edge  of 
the  Mediterranean,  and  though  comparatively  uninteresting, 
is  one  of  the  oldest  cities  of  the  world.  The  town  has  about 
eight  thousand  inhabitants.  Its  sfreets  are  narrow,  crooked, 
and  dirty;  but  the  orchards  of  olives  and  lemons  which  sur- 
round it  are  not  equaled  in  all  the  Holy  Land.  The  orchards 
embrace  nearly  fourteen  thousand  acres  of  land,  and  it  is  said 
not  less  than>  three  hundred  thousand  bushels  of  oranges  are 
ship])cd  from  this  j)lace  every  year.  The  fruit  is  luscious  and 
the  most  beautiful  anywhere  to  be  seen.  Oranges  are  of  im- 
mense size  and  rich  in  flavor. 

While  at  Joppa,  one  day  the  writer  attended  a Moliamme- 
dan  funeral.  A large  company  marched  in  procession  around 
the  grave-yard,  and  appj’oached  the  tomb  from  the  west.  First 
came  some  boys,  then  the  band  })laying,  then  persons  with 
banners,  then  a large  company  of  men,  and  then  the  hier  car- 
ried on  the  shoulders  of  strong  young  men.  The  body  was  in 
a box  of  wood,  with  comb  roof,  and  a covering  of  light  cloth 
over  a part  of  it ; then  the  hired  mourners  around  it,  and 
then  the  women.  At  the  grave,  which  was  five  feet  wide,  they 
held  a large  blue  cloth  over  the  corpse,  so  as  to  shut  out  the 
view.  They  drew  off'  the  covered  bier,  or  slipped  the  man  out 
of  it,  took  off  the  rugs  whieh  were  wrap]>ed  around  the  body, 
slipped  it  into  the  vault,  and  piled  stones  upon  it.  The 
mourners  sat  around  and  whined  and  chattered  prayers.  They 
were  poor  and  for  the  mo.«t  part  ill-clad  persons.  AVhen  the 
grave  was  filled,  a man  with  a few  coppers  distributed  the 
money  to  the  mourners.  Some  got  a cent,  and  others  half  a 


THAyKSGJ  VJyQ  DiyNER. 


583 


cent.  One  old  man  who  got  a half-penny  seemed  quite  happy. 
After  several  hours  a priest  came  to  the  grave-yard,  and  then 
more  prayers  were  said  at  th.e  tent.  The  people  joined  in  by 
singing  prayers  and  bowing  or  bending  forward  and  back- 
ward. 

I was  al.<o  much  interested  in  visiting  the  markets,  to 
whicli  the  jieople  came  with  all  kinds  of  valuables,  from  a 
dozen  camels  down  to  a stalk  of  sugar-cane  or  a pumpkin. 
A stick  of  cane  can  be  i)urchascd  for  a penny.  The  poor  peo- 
ple buy  a stick  of  the  sweet,  juicy  cane,  and  chew  it  as  they 
have  hunger  until  it  is  all  gone.  Many  of  the  peasant  jieople 
live  in  this  way.  Here,  also,  were  great  crowds  of  camels 
brought  to  the  market  for  sale.  They  are,  indeed,  “ Ships  of 
the  Desert.”  For  a description  see  pages  320  and  340.  A 
camel  can  he  bought  for  fifteen  to  twenty-five  pounds;  that 
is,  from  seventy-five  to  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  dollars. 

One  thing  not  to  be  forgotten,  which  occurred  during  our 
stay  at  -Joppa,  was  our  Thanksgiving  dinner,  on  November 
24th — for  at  home,  far  away,  it  was  Thanksgiving.  At  the 
hotel  Mr.  Alexander  Howard  had  two  turkeys  prepared  and  a 
royal  dinner.  Our  hotel  was  decorated  with  United  States 
flags  and  presented  a scene  of  real  beauty  and  home-likeness. 
Throngs  of  men  and  women  and  caravans  of  camels  pas.sed 
beneath  the  folds  of  the  great  flags  on  the  way  to  and  from  the 
city.  It  was  twelve  o’clock  (but  in  America  it  was  only  3 : 30 
A.  M.)  when  we  sat  around  the  Thanksgiving  dinner.  While 
good  housewives  and  mothers  in  America  dreamed  of  joy, 
and  of  families  gathered  together  in  affectionate  reunions,  a 
company  of  Americans  who  had  traveled  together  for  months 
through  man}'  perils,  eat  a glad  Thanksgiving  dinner  six 
thousand  miles  from  loved  ones,  but  in  a city  of  antiquity, 
where  Peter  once  .saw'  a great  sheet  knit  at  the  four  corners, 
and  let  dow'n  to  the  earth,”  filled  w’ith  all  manner  of  beasts 
and  creeping  things;  respecting  which  he  had  divine  orders 
to  “ kill  and  eat.”  ( Acts  x.  13.)  I do  not  know  w'hat  his 
bill  of  fare  was;  but  we  had  turkey,  pumpkin -pie,  and 
plum-pudding,  with  glad  hearts,  and  such  things  as  make  up 


SHIPS  OF  THE  DESEET, 


THA  XKSGI VIXG  DINNER. 


565 


a Thanksgiving  dinner.  At  tlic  close  of  the  dinner,  Dr.  Fry 
in  fitting  words  presented  the  thanks  of  the  conii)any  to  Mr. 
Howard  for  his  attention  to  our  wants,  and  for  the  repast.  He 
also  tendered  the  testimonial  presented  by  the  company.  Mr. 
Howard  responded  happily,  and  congratulated  the  company 
upon  its  completion  of  the  long  tour  in  the  Floly  Land. 

The  following  toasts  were  prepared,  and  responded  to  by 
those  named:  “Our  Country,”  A.  Howard,  and  J.  C.  McGrew; 
“President  Arthur,”  W.  Sharman  ; “England  and  her  Queen,” 
J.  Mb  Hott;  “The  Day  we  Celebrate,”  W.  D.  Love;  “The  Girls 
we  Left  Behind  Us,”  H.  A.  Thompson;  “The  Protestant 
Clergy,  and  the  Bible  they  Teach,”  Dr.  Fry;  “American  Flag 
and  Alexander  Howard,  tourist,  as  a Protection  in  Palestine,” 
\V.  H.  Stock  and  \V.  W.  Sedgwick.  It  was  a pleasant  occasion, 
and  one  never  to  ho  forgotten.  It  was  doubly  fitting  to  the 
com})any  to  give  thanks,  since  they  had  just  completed  a tour 
of  many  weeks  of  travel  in  the  Holy  Land,  and  no  serious 
accident  or  hinderance  had  befallen  them.  I spent  the  after- 
noon, and  the  morning  of  the  following  day,  in  visiting  sev- 
eral places  of  interest  about  .Joppa,  gathering  shells  along  the 
shore,  scanning  a few  sail-vessels  which  passed  Avithin  the 
range  of  our  glass,  and  in  writing.  I also  had  time  to  visit 
the  Baldwin  Memorial  School,  under  the  control  of  Miss  Da- 
vidson, a consecrated  Christian  Avomun,  and  a native  of  the 
Avriter’s  own  county,  Frederick,  in  the  Old  Dominion.  She 
has  about  ninety  students,  all  boys,  nine  of  Avhom  are  IMoham- 
medans.  She  has  been  at  Jopi>a  four  years,  and  is  doing  a 
noble  Avork  for  Christ. 

On  the  25th  of  Nov'ember,  about  9 : 30  a.  m.,  the  steamer 
came  in  sight,  and  by  3 : 30  p.  m.  avc  Avere  to  be  on  board.  The 
Joppa  port  is  a very  dangerous  one.  The  vessel  anchors  a 
mile  or  more  off  at  sea,  and  Ave  Avere  to  be  roAved  out  in  small 
boats.  The  sea  is  often  so  rough  that  it  is  impossible  to 
land  or  embark.  For  three  days  Ave  had  occasionally  Avatched 
the  mad  Avaves  lashing  the  beach ; and  this  morning  it  Avas 
rougher  than  at  any  time.  How  strange  the  Avay  of  the  sea! 
Does  God  command  it?  We  stepped  into  the  boat  to  be  rowed 


586 


THE  HOLY  LAND. 


out  to  tlie  steamer ; and  the  sea  was  found  to  have  become  a 
perfect  calm.  We  had  no  more  delightful  embarkation  any- 
where in  all  our  trip  than  here  in  this  dangerous  harbor.  We 
watched  the  loading  of  the  cargo.  How  busily  they  push  the 
boats  laden  witli  sacks  of  rice.  In  the  midst  of  the  bustle, 
one  Mohammedan  Turk  walks  to  the  rear  of  his  boat,  spreads 
out  his  handkerchief,  and  goes  through  with  his  prayers.  We 
had  a good  dinner,  which  was  relished;  afterward  came  the 
singing  of  appropriate  songs,  closing  with  the  doxology. 

At  8 : 00  r.  m.  our  anchors  are  taken  in,  and  the  vessel,  the 
“ Aurora,”  begins  to  move  away.  Joppa  looks  beautiful  in 
the  night  as  it  sits  on  the  rocks  high  up  above  its  surround- 
ings. But  its  white  and  gray  houses  fade;  its  lights  are  gone 
one  after  another.  From  the  stern  of  the  vessel,  while  heavy 
lightnings  break  and  flash  from  a threatening  cloud  almost  in 
our  front,  but  somewhat  northward  from  us,  we  watch  the 
light  of  the  light-house  as  it  flashes  out  again  and  again,  till 
at  last  it  is  out  of  sight  in  the  darkness  over  the  sea;  and 
our  long  and  silently  contemplated  visit  to  Palestine,  our 
sight  of  its  many  sad,  sacred,  and  touching  scenes,  our  gazing 
upon  its  sacred  mountains  and  valleys,  its  cities  and  saered 
spots,  were  all  a thing  of  the  past.  Our  sojourn  in  the  land 
which  the  Lord  has  both  honored  and  cursed  as  none  other, 
was  now  forever  over. 

I And  this  entry  made  in  my  diary  as  the  vessel  rode  out 
of  the  harlior  at  Joppa:  I sorrow  that  my  eyes  shall  see  no 

more  the  streams,  and  ruins  of  cities,  mountains,  hills,  and 
valleys,  illustrious  with  the  memory  of  the  divinest  men  who 
have  ever  lived,  and  ten  thousand  times  more  dear  because 
of  the  foot-prints  of  the  feet  of  our  Savior,  Jesus.  With  all 
the  disadvantages  and  hardships  of  the  journey,  God  has  been 
wonderfully  near.  I am  amazed  beyond  measure  at  his  un- 
bounded goodness  and  mercy.  To  him  be  all  the  glor\'.  The 
lightnings  flash  a terror  over  the  dark  waves  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean  ; but  our  vessel  rides  the  billows  nobly.  The  storm 
may  bring  great  waves  and  a rough  voyage ; but  there  may  be 
a calm,  and  the  morrow  may  come  with  sunshine.  We  are 
committed  to  the  bosom  of  the  deep  sea. 


(Gopy'n.p^t  I8Q0-; 


'Pie  Americ/in,  SuntLj^  Sc-hjool  Union,  Philaddphia,. 


PART  FIFTH. 


EGYPT-LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Land  of  the  Pharaohs — Port  Said — Suez  Canal — Desert — Land  of  Goshen 
—Joseph  and  Jacob — Home  of  Israel  — Isinailia — Raineses  — Bondage 
of  Israel  — Zakazik  — Palm-Trees — Women  — People  of  Egypt — Pyr- 
amids— Donkeys  — Cairo. 

X Saturday,  November  26th,  about  noon,  the  steamer 
f.yyjj’-  Aurora  entered  the  harbor  at  Port  Said,  Egypt,  and 
my  feet  for  the  first  time  stood  on  Egyptian  soil.  I 
"^dj^Xvas  at  last  in  the  land  of  the  Nile,  the  land  of  the  Pha- 
raohs,  the  land  of  Joseph  and  of  Israel’s  bondage.  My 
) feet  were  on  the  soil  from  which  Moses,  the  grandest  of 
Old  Testament  characters,  arose  to  be  the  leader  of  God’s 
chosen  people.  The  balmy  air  and  summer-like  sunshine 
seemed  to  give  a cheering  w^elcome. 

Port  Said  is  of  course  a modern  town.  It  is  nearl}’^  mid- 
way between  Alexandria  and  Joppa, — about  one  hundred  and 
eighty  miles  from  the  former  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
from  the  latter.  The  coast  is  exceedingly  low,  so  much  that 
it  is  not  seen  from  the  sea  until  the  vessel  is  very  near  to  it. 
In  building  the  towm,  the  first  thing  done  ivas  to  make  a place 
to  put  it  by  filling  up  the  lowlands  w-ith  dredgings  from  the 
sea.  It  is  only  a little  over  twenty  years  ago  that  M.  De  Les- 
seps,  with  about  a dozen  Europeans  and  one  hundred  native 
laborers,  began  here  the  opening  of  the  Suez  Canal,  with  the 
construction  of  which  Port  Said  grew  into  being.  Aside  from 

587 


588 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


the  old  Turkish  town  it  is  European  in  its  structure,  having 
wide  streets  crossing  at  right  angles,  and  wooden  houses  wdth 
tile  roofing.  It  looks  like  a neat,  progressive  western  town 
in  the  United  States.  Here,  wdth  the  scintillations  of  civili- 
zation, we  meet  again  the  whisky -shop,  wdiich  in  Palestine 
and  Syria  is  unknown.  The  city  has  perhaps  eight  or  ten 
thousand  people,  many  of  Avhom  are  engaged  in  mercantile 
business  of  various  kinds.  This  point  is  indeed  the  connect- 
ing link,  by  means  of  the  canal,  between  the  seas  of  Africa 
and  Asia,  and  into  this  harbor  come  the  great  vessels  from 
India  and  different  parts  of  the  world,  all  stopping  here.  The 
splendid  light-house  in  the  harbor,  a tower  one  hundred  and 


sixty  feet  high,  is  lighted  with  a revolving  electric  light,  wdrich 
flaslies  every  twenty  seconds  a gleam  of  light  upon  the  Medi- 
terranean which  can  he  seen  in  the  darkness  for  twenty  miles 
over  the  sea.  Our  stay  here  was  sliort,  hut  (juite  long  enough. 
At  midnight  we  took  passage  on  a little  steamer  on  the  Suez 
Canal  for  Ismailia,  fifty  miles  toward  Suez.  This  canal, 
which  wnis  completed  so  far  as  to  allow  ships  to  pass  through 
its  waters  in  November,  1869,  though  its  entire  completion 
was  not  effected  until  some  time  later,  has  a capital  stock  of 
about  seventeen  million  pounds  sterling,  — eighty-five  mil- 
lion dollars.  Tt  is  about  ninety  yards  wide,  thirty  feet  deep, 
and  one  hundred  miles  long.  It  is  a queer  sight  to  loox 


LAND  OF  GOSHEN. 


589 


at  these  great  ships  whicli  go  through  it,  as  they  seem  at  a 
distance  to  be  steaming  through  a great  desert  of  sand.  It  is 
indeed  a triumph  of  modern  skill  and  enterprise  in  invention 
and  in  navigation.  Our  ride  would  have  been  pleasant  enough 
but  for  the  fact  that  about  seventeen  persons  were  crowded 
into  a small  room  with  capacity  for  only  about  ten  or  twelve. 
But  the  riding  was  easy,  and  by  morning  our  little  boat,  which 
glided  along  smoothly  and  quietly,  halted  at  Lsmailia,  where 
we  disembarked,  took  lunch,  and  waited  for  a train  to  Cairo, 
lsmailia  is  a beautiful  town  in  the  desert.  Fresh  water 
brought  from  the  Nile  by  the  fresh -water  canal,  irrigates 
the  gardens  and  yards  and  parks  of  the  town,  and  makes 
them  blos.som  like  the  rose.  Here  are  all  kinds  of  tropical 
trees,  plants,  and  fruits  in  abundance.  The  gardens  are  kept 
with  the  greatest  care,  and  the  palm,  acacia,  and  all  kinds 
of  beautiful  trees,  with  choice  flowers,  present  a fresh ne.ss  and 
beauty,  spring-like  indeed.  At  eleven  o’clock  we  were  on  the 
railroad  train.  We  had  .seen  cars  only  twice  since  leaving 
Italy, — once  at  Pirteus,  and  also  at  Smyrna.  The  cars  in 
Egypt  are  of  the  English  style  and  quite  comfortable.  For 
about  twenty-five  miles  our  way  lay  over  a perfectly  barren 
desert  of  reddish  sand.  Then  almost  instantly  we  enter  the 
region  watered  from  the  Nile  by  means  of  canals;  and  at  once 
all  is  life,  fruitfulne.«s,  and  beauty. 

A tenfold  greater  interest  attaches  to  this  country  because 
of  its  long-ago  history.  We  were  now  in  the  heart  of  the 
land  of  Goshen.  As  Israel,  with  his  family  and  flocks,  jour- 
neyed to  Egypt  in  the  days  of  famine  in  the  land  of  Canaan, 
Judah  was  sent  forward  by  the  patriarch  to  meet  Joseph, 
in  order  that  provisional  arrangements  might  be  made  with 
Pharaoh  for  them  to  dwell  in  Goshen.  “ And  they  came  into 
the  land  of  Goshen.”  As  I looked  out  over  the  plain,  fruit- 
ful amid  the  desert,  I could  not  but  think  of  the  scene  which 
transpired  here  more  than  three  thousand  years  ago,  when 
Jacob,  bending  wuth  the  burden  of  one  hundred  and  thirty 
years  upon  him,  reached  the  land  of  plenty,  and  waited  to 
meet  his  long-lost  darling  .Joseph.  “ And  Joseph  made  ready 


590 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


his  chariot,  and  went  up  to  meet  Israel  his  father,  to  Goshen, 
and  presented  himself  unto  him;  and  he  fell  on  his  neck, 
and  wept  on  his  neck  a good  while.  And  Israel  said  unto  Jo- 
seph, Xow  let  me  die,  since  I have  seen  thy  face,  because  thou 
art  yet  alive.”  (Genesis  xlvi.  29,  30.)  And  here  in  the  land 
of  Rameses,  even  this  goodly  land  of  Goshen,  “Joseph  placed 
his  father  and  his  brethren,  and  gave  them  a possession  in  the 
land  of  Egypt,  in  the  best  of  the  land.”  Over  these  broad, 
level  plains  the  sons  of  Israel  kejit  their  flocks  while  the  famine 
was  sore  in  all  the  land.  And  here  their  little  ones  and  herds 
were  left  while  Joseph  and  his  brethren  carried  Jacob  into  the 
land  of  Canaan  and  buried  him  in  the  cave  of  the  field  of 
Machpelah,  which  is  at  Hebron.  About  twenty  miles  from 
Port  Said,  southward  across  Lake  Menzeleh,  and  thirty  miles 
north-west  from  Ismailia,  is  a little  town,  AJ>oo  Kha^hcb,  be- 
lieved to  occupy  the  site  of  Zoan,  or  Rame.ses,  one  of  the  cities 
built  b}"  the  children  of  Israel.  We  are  told  that  “they  built 
for  Pharaoh  treasure  cities  Pithom  and  Rameses.”  (Exodus 
i.  11.)  This  Zoan  was  the  capital  of  Egypt  in  the  days  of 
Hyksos  Pharaoh,  who  exalted  Joseph  “ over  all  the  land  of 
Egypt,  and  under  whose  dominion  the  Hebrews  prospered  in 
this  land,  being  multiplied  in  number,  and  allowed  to  gather 
their  harvest  in  peace.  Zoan  also  was  the  residence  of  Rame- 
ses II.,  the  Pharaoh  “ who  knew  not  Joseph,”  and  from  this 
city  went  out  tlie  orders  of  oppression  for  the  Israelites,  doom- 
ing them  to  their  tale  of  brick  without  furnishing  them  straw. 
(We  have  described  the  manner  of  making  brick  on  page  314.) 
To  this  same  city  came  Moses,  the  man  of  God,  to  stand  be- 
fore Meneptah  and  work  those  “ wonders  in  the  field  of  Zoan.” 
Some  of  the  brick  made,  as  is  believed,  by  the  Israelites,  when 
they  were  made  to  serve  with  rigor,  have  been  discovered. 
When  greater  excavations  are  made,  vast  treasures  of  antiq- 
uity will  doubtless  be  brought  to  the  knowledge  of  our  times. 
This  land  is  sometimes  called  Ramesus,  or  Raamses,  and  Go- 
shen. A grand  monolith  was  found  here,  bearing  the  name 
of  Rameses  II.  If  this  identitieation  of  the  ancient  Rame- 
ses is  to  be  relied  upon,  then  it  was  from  this  point  that  Is- 


BONDAGE  OF  ISRAEL. 


591 


rael,  under  the  coiuniaud  of  Moses,  began  their  journeying  to 
Canaan,  going  first  to  Succoth,  after  the  ten  plagues  had  -wasted 
the  Egyptians,  and  after  Israel's  sojourn  of  four  hundred  and 
thirty  years  in  Egypt.  It  was  a great  eoiii[)any,  “Six  hun- 
dred thousand  on  foot  that  were  men,  besides  children.’’ 
“And  a mixed  multitude  went  up,  also;  and  flochs,  and 
herds,  even  very  much  cattle.’’  God  had  wrought  mightily 
for  Israel  in  the  plagues  and  the  slaying  of  the  first-born 
of  all  the  Egyptians,  until  Pharaoh  crietl,  “Rise  up  and  get 
you  forth  from  among  my  j)eople,”  and  the  Egy})tians  came 
urging  Israel  to  dejuirt  “out  of  the  land  in  haste,”  saying, 
“We  be  all  deatl  men.”  (Exodus  xii.  33.)  Thus  it  was  that 
here  on  these  vast,  well-watered  jdaiiis,  Israel  had  found  nour- 
ishment in  time  of  famine,  and  oppression  beyond  measure 
from  another  king,  and  task-masters  who  made  them  to  “serve 
w'ith  rigor,”  and  last  of  all,  deliverance  from  a national  and 
terrible  bondage. 

In  the  Museum  at  Cairo  is  a bust  believed  to  be  that  of 
Meneptah,  the  Pharaoh  who  a little  later  took  six  hundred 
chariots,  all  the  chariots  of  Egypt,  and  followed  Israel  Avith 
his  captains  and  mighty  hosts  to  the  Red  Sea.  What  com- 
forts these  fruitful  fields  of  Goshen  afforded  starving  Israel  in 
the  days  of  Jacob!  These  sands  also  drank  the  tears  of  their 
bitterness  and  sorrow  when  Jacob  slept  in  Machpelah,  and 
Joseph’s  embalmed  body.  Avaited  long  the  men  Avho  should 
carry  it  to  Shechem.  These  peojde  now  seem  to  cultivate  the 
soil,  ignorant  of  the  feet  Avhich  trod  it  in  the  long  time  ago. 

From  Ismailia  to  Zakazik,  and  then  to  Cairo, — in  all  about 
se\’enty-five  miles, — the  country  is  a garden.  The  lands  are 
perfectly  leA'el,  so  that  the  Avater  is  conveyed  all  through  the 
plain  Avith  readiness.  Ditches  surround  every  parcel,  of 
ground,  and  from  these  water  is  let  in  as  desired  and  closed 
off  as  Avished.  This  sand  of  the  desert  is  made  the  most  pro- 
ductive by  the  water  of  the  Nile,  Avhich,  overfloAving  it,  depos- 
its a sediment  Avhich  enriches  it  at  once.  One  can  scarcely 
believe  that  such  indescribable  barrenness  and  dearth  could  so 
soon  be  made  to  teem  Avith  Avealth  and  beauty  by  the  Avaters 


592 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


of  the  ^'ile.  No  wonder  the  Egyptians  of  olden  times  wor- 
shiped the  river  and  called  it  a god.  What  would  Egypt  be 
without  the  Nile?  Only  one  vast  desert  of  sand  from  .«ide  to 
side.  The  country  here  looks  like  the  best  cultivated  plains 
of  the  West,  only  delightful  groves  of  palms  stud  it  with 
beauty  everywhere.  They  have  a delicate  majesty  which  no 
one  can  apju-eciate  but  a traveler  who  has  for  many  weeks 
been  roaming  over  the  desolate  countries  of  Palestine  and 
Syria,  where  trees  are  so  rarely  to  be  seen.  There  are  great 
cotton-fields,  and  piles  of  cotton  sacks  on  the  banks  of  the 
canal  and  at  the  railroad  stations.  There  are  fields  of  grain 
just  peeping  through  the  earth,  and  others  quite  green.  There 
are  fields  from  which  the  corn  has  been  gathered,  and  others 
which  will  not  be  ripe  for  a month  or  more.  There  are  num- 
bers of  others  the  corn  of  which  is  gathered  in  heaps,  where 
women  and  children  are  husking  it,  while  men  upon  little 
donkeys  and  huge  camels  are  carrying  the  fodder  into  stacks 
and  piles.  There  are  others  with  the  corn  yet  on  the  stock, 
the  land  flooded  with  water,  and  men  are  in  the  water  up  to 
their  bodies,  wading  about,  pulling  off  the  corn,  and  putting  it 
into  floating  baskets  which  they  pull  after  them.  The  women 
dress  strangely,  in  a single  blueish  gown,  and  have  curious 
ornaments  of  the  face,  like  coins,  or  even  spools  strung  up, 
hanging  down  over  their  noses.  The  head  and  face  are  closely 
covered,  while  great  dirty  feet  go  bare.  Half-grown  children 
crowd  around  the  train  at  depots  for  haclcshish,  or  run  after 
the  passing  train,  or  in  wild  delight  throw  dirt  at  it  as  it 
passes  quickly  by.  The  country  has  the  Turk,  Arab,  Egyp- 
tian, Abyssinian,  and  whom  else  we  can  not  tell.  But  of  course 
some  English,  Italians,  French,  and  Nubians  are  about  tbe 
toAvns.  The  plowing  is  also  going  on  with  musk-oxen  pulling 
at  a yoke  about  ten  feet  long.  Two  things  are  universal  with 
the  men, — the  red  fez  on  the  head,  and  dirt.  Beyond  the 
fertile  plain  we  can  see  the  elevations  of  the  sandy  desert. 

What  are  these  queer-looking  forms  rising  in  the  dusky  air 
above  the  palm-trees  far  off  in  front  and  to  the  right  ? They 
look  like  strangely  constructed  roofs  of  houses  at  a great  dis- 


CAIRO. 


593 


tance,  or  like  huge  bee-hives.  We  should  have  been  on  the 
lookout  had  we  not  known  that  we  were  fifteen  or  twenty 
miles  from  Cairo.  They  are  the  great  pyramids  of  Egypt, — one 
of  the  wonders  of  the  world.  And  the  gray  old  sentinels  of  the 
ages,  which  have  stood  four  thousand  years  or  more,  are 
the  first  to  welcome  us  to  the  capital  of  Egypt,  by’ showing 
their  great  forms  to  our  wondering  eyes.  And  as  the  sun  was 
setting  just  behind  these  pyramids,  our  train  hurried  between 
the  beautiful  gardens  and  yards  which  surround  the  city,  and 
in  which  we  should  look  for  modern  improvenients  in  cultiva- 
tion of  the  soil  if  we  did  not  remember  that  we  are  in  Egypt. 
We  are  in  Cairo,  the  great  city  of  Egypt.  It  is  a busy  time  at 
the  depot.  There  are  hacks,  a few  of  them,  to  be  sure ; but  here 
are  Arabs  by  the  score  and  hundred.  They  want  to  take  care 
of  the  traveler.  And  instead  of  the  carriage  of  America  and 
the  cab  and  hansoms  of  London,  here  are  scores  and  almost 
hundreds  of  donkeys  standing  everywhere  with  saddle,  ready 
for  the  traveler  to  mount  and  ride  where  he  w’ill,  with  an  Arab 
to  punch,  and  kick,  and  drive  the  donkey  along.  We  are  soon 
quartered  at  the  Hotel  du  Nil,  where  our  wants  are  met  to  a 
minimum  of  a fraction.  Tlie  rooms  are  large  and  well  fur- 
nished. The  table  is  sumptuous,  and  the  large  court  within 
the  buildings  is  filled  wdth  choicest  trees,  flowers,  and  walks 
amid  the  oriental  bowers.  More  than  a dozen  stately  palms 
of  graceful  form  and  delicate  beauty  lend  their  charm  to  the 
deepening  shades. 


38 


CHAPTER  II. 


Ancient  Egj-pt  — Its  Antiquities  — Ancient  Government — Abraham  in 
Egypt  — Egyptian  Glory  and  Plagues — Plato  in  Egypt— Egypt  the 
Shelter  of  Christ  — Virgin’s  Tree — Climate  of  Egypt  — Copts — Abys- 
sinians  — Turks  — Women  as  Slaves  — Cairo  — Egyptian  Gardens  — 
Pdind  People  — Mosques  — Grand  Mosque  — Citadel  — Mamelukes  — 
Mohammedan  School — Mohammedan  Students — Missions  in  Egypt. 


GYPT  is  not  wliat  it  was  four  thousand  years  ago 
' and  more,  Avhen  the  great  Pyramid  -wap  built  by 
Cheops;  nor  what  it  was  in  the  twelfth  dynasty,  two 
thousand  and  eighty  years  before  Christ,  or  two  hundred 
o years  later,  B.  C.  1900,  when  Abraham  came  down  from 
j Canaan  ; nor  wluit  it  was  when  Joseph  rode  in  the  char- 
iot next  to  the  king ; nor  what  it  was  during  the  Theban  dy- 
nasty of  eleven  kings,  a period  of  two  hundred,  or  two  hundred 
and  fifty  years,  when  she  rose  to  her  most  brilliant  place  in 
history  as  atte.sted  by  the  splendid  monuments  erected  at 
Thebes ; nor  yet  what  it  was  in  the  time  of  Rameses  and 
Moses,  nearly  fourteen  hundred  years  before  Christ;  nor  what 
it  was  under  the  dominion  of  the  Ptolemies,  beginning  with 
Soter  and  Philadelphus,  when  it  rose  to  its  greatest  power,  and 
ending  with  Cleopatra,  when  it  became  a Roman  province, 
thirty  years  before  the  Christian  era.  It  could  not  now  rear 
an  obelisk  in  a century,  nor  build  a pyramid  like  that  at 
Gizeh  in  a thousand  years,  nor  hold  Israel  in  bondage  a fort- 
night. It  has  not  even  appreciation  enough  of  its  own  an- 
tiquity to  preserve  the  mementos  and  monuments  of  its 
illustrious  and  marvelous  history.  Its  antiquities,  the  most 
marvelous  of  the  world  many  times  over,  have  been  carried 

away  to  enrich  museums  on  other  continents.  Its  obelisks 

504 


EGYPTIAN  GLORY  AND  PLAGUES. 


595 


have  been  taken  on  crafts  to  Paris,  London,  and  even  Amer- 
ica, where  they  stand  monuments  of  tlie  world's  hunger  for 
Egyptian  wonders.  It  has  now  no  decent  building  in  which 
to  preserve  and  exhibit  the  rare  specimens  and  bits  of  an- 
tiquity which  have  struggled  down  through  thousands  of 
years,  to  stand  as  the  most  curious  and  illustrious  memen- 
tos of  the  past  on  which  the  eye  of  man  ever  rested.  And 
yet,  outside  of  Palestine,  there  is  to  the  Christian  and  Bible- 
reader  no  country  that  can  be  visited  with  such  expectation 
and  interest ; and  no  land  better  repays  the  traveler  for  the 
labor  and  expense  incurred  in  seeing  it. 

The  marvelous  prowess  of  Egyjjt  and  its  s])l'endor  of  govern- 
ment thousands  of  years  ago,  cause  it  to  .po.-sess  the  greatest 
interest  to  all.  Its  kings  and  armies  held  the  w<jrld  in  terror, 
while  its  skill,  wealth,  and  art  built  up  a civilization  which, 
w’hether  general  in  its  influence  upon  the  ancient  Egypt- 
ian or  not,  developed  a type  of  learning,  and  learned  men, 
which  challenges  the  admiration  of  the  present  age,  even 
after  the  lapse  of  thousands  of  years.  Then,  it  was  by  very 
nature,  as  well  as  by  providence,  the  sheltering  home  of  Abra- 
ham in  time  of  famine,  as  early  as  the  thirteenth  dynasty  of 
its  kings,  or  nearh’  four  thousand  years  ago.  And  yet,  here 
at  Heliopolis,  I visited  a well-preserved  Syenite  granite  obe- 
lisk erected  by  Osirtasen,  whose  name  it  bears,  and  who  was 
the  first  king  of  the  previous  dynasty,  and  the  fourth  prede- 
cessor to  the  reigning  sovereign  of  Abraham’s  time.  More 
than  two  hundred  years  after  Abraham’s  visit,  Egypt  became 
the  protective  home  of  .lacob  and  his  sons,  and  afterward  the 
home  of  their  slavish  sorrows.  It  was  here  that  God  mani- 
fested his  power  as  to  no  nation  known  in  history.  At  the 
word  of  his  servant  all  the  waters  of  the  great  river  Nile,  along 
whose  banks  I was  privileged  to  travel,  became  blood.  Then 
plague  after  plague  wasted  the  land  and  destroyed  the  Egyp- 
tians until  Israel  was  let  go.  Here  the  great  Jewish  lawgiver, 
“ learned  in  all  the  wisdom  of  the  Egyptians,”  probably  stud- 
ied in  the  city  of  On,  the  ancient  seat  of  wisdom  and  learning, 
to  which  in  later  times  Plato  and  other  ancient  philosophers 


I 


596  EGYPT  — LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 

resorted,  and  where  they  studied  for  years.  Egypt  garners  a 
history  which  may  be  counted  among  the  wonders  of  time. 

There  is  one  fact  which  casts  a special  interest  upon  the  face 
of  this  land.  When  the  cruelty  and  wickedness  of  Herod 
denied  the  life  of  the  child  .Jesus  a place  in  Judea,  the  angel 
of  the  Lord  pointed  out  Egypt  to  Joseph  as  the  asylum  for 
the  infant  Prince  of  Peace  until  death  should  silence  tlie  rage 
of  the  slaughterer  of  'the  babes  of  Bethlehem.  And  so  it  was 
said  of  Joseph:  “AVhen  he  arose,  he  took  the  young  child 

and  his  mother  by  night,  and  departed  into  Egypt : and  was 
there  until  the  death  of  Herod : that  it  might  be  fulfilled  which 
was  spoken  of  the  Lord  by  the  prophet,  saying.  Out  of  Egypt 
have  I called  my  son.”  (Matthew  ii.  14.)  Tradition  has  been 
busy  in  this  country  in  the  location  of  sites  visited  by  the 
holy  family.  One  shows  the  “Well  of  the  Virgin,”  at  which 
the  family  drank,  and  another  points  out  an  aged  sycamore- 
tree  as  the  “ The  Virgin’s  Tree,”  a little  east  of  Heliopolis, 
under  the  shade  of  which  the  virgin  mother  and  her  child 
rested.  Of  course  I visited  these,  with  other  traditional  sites, 
admiring  more  the  ingenuity  and  credulity  of  those  who 
could  rely  upon  such  fancies,  rather  than  having  any  faith  in 
the  reliability  of  such  legends,  however  ancient  the  traditions 
or  the  sites  they  point  out.  But  still,  it  was  in  some  humble 
place  along  the  Nile  valley  that  Joseph  and  Mary  lodged  with 
the  child  Jesus,  waiting  till  God  should  bring  them  word. 
These  facts,  aside  from  the  renowned  ancient  art  and  polit- 
ical history  of  this  land,  make  it  a place  of  importance  in 
the  travels  of  a Christian,  and  embrace  it  in  tender  memo- 
ries, and  awaken  affectionate  emotions. 

The  climate  of  Egypt  is  dry  and  salubrious ; and  though  the 
mortality  of  children  and  adults  is  great,  this  is  to  be  attrib- 
uted to  the  filthy  habits  and  mean  living  of  the  people,  rather 
than  to  the  climate  of  the  country.  Thousands  of  the  poor 
surely  must  die  from  the  lack  of  medical  attention.  At  Cairo  we 
are  in  about  the  same  latitude  as  New  Orleans,  with  a mean  tem- 
perature, throughout  the  year,  of  seventy-one  degrees,  though 
the  temperature  from  morning  to  noon  sometimes  varies 


WOMEN  AS  SLA  VES. 


597 


twelve  degrees,  and  the  same  from  noon  to  evening — the  nights 
being  cool  and  the  days  warm ; yet  the  climate  as  a whole  is 
through  the  year  more  uniform  than  anywhere  else  on  the  globe. 
The  summer  season  extends  from  April  to  September,—  the  re- 
mainder of  the  year  being  winter.  There  are  but  two  seasons 
here.  August  and  September  are  the  hottest  months,  and 
December  and  January  the  coldest.  Ae  1 write  this,  Decem- 
ber 3d,  the  court  of  our  hotel  is  blooming  with  fi(  wers.  The 
jess;imine,  the  palmetto-palm,  and  the  date-palm,  a half  dozen 
of  whicli  grow  luxuriantly,  the  banana,  the  acacia,  and  the 
bamboo,  are  all  in  royal  verdure,  while,  clioicest  flowers  cast 
their  fragrance  into  our  chamber.  The  air  is  balmy,  and  deli- 
cious. Were  it  our  lot  to  remain  here  even  for  months,  “ my 
summer  would  last  all  the  year.”  Snow  is  unknown  here,  and 
it  is  a rare  thing  that  the  freezing-point  is  ever  reached.  Here 
at  Cairo  the  mean  temperature  in  winter  is  fifty-eight  degrees, 
while  a half  dozen  showers  of  rain  at  the  most  is  all  that  may 
be  expected  in  a year.  The  air  in  the  winter,  however,  is 
humid  on  account  of  the  watering  of  the  land  by  the  Nile. 

Only  a few  of  the  Coptic  people  remain  as  the  representa- 
tives of  the  ancient  Egyptian  race.  They  are  darker  than  the 
Arabs,  but  not  so  black  as  the  Abyssinians.  There  are  a few 
English  people,  more  French,  some  Germans  and  Hebrews 
here.  Most  of  the  people  are  Arabs,  with  a sprinkle  of  Abys- 
sinians, and  indeed  with  representatives  of  every  race  known 
in  these  ends  of  the  earth.  The  religion  is  Mohammedan,  and 
everyw'here  the  mosque  and  its  minaret  greet  the  eye.  The 
dress  and  habits  of  the  people  are  oriental.  The  dress  of  men 
and  women  is  much  the'same.  A great  proportion,  indeed 
nearly  all,  of  the  population,  seem  to  be  ]>oor.  Women  are  little 
more  than  slaves.  We  have  .=;een  thousands  upon  thousands — 
indeed  they  are  everywhere  — at  the  hardest  toil,  and  bear- 
ing the  heaviest  burdens,  with  often  one  or  two  children 
loaded  on  them.  Most  of  them  are  barefooted,  and  wear  but 
a single  blue  cotton  gown  with  a covering  of  black  over  most 
of  the  face,  and  an  ornament  hanging  down  on  the  nose  so 
that  just  their  dark  eyes  are  to  be  seen  behind  this  black 


598 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


covering,  and  shining  brass  or  silver  covering  tlie  face  and 
adorning  the  nose.  They  carry  everything  on  tlieir  heads, 
except  their  children,  and  these  are  often  put  on  the  back 
with  a cloth  stretching  over  the  top  of  the  head  forming 
a swing,  in  which  they  lie  half  covered  with  great  swarms 
of  Hies.  Men,  women,  and  children  sit  in  the  markets  and 
along  the  streets,  and  about  the  fountains,  and  along  the 
roads,  down  Hat  in  'the  dirt,  with  a little  fruit,  or  corn,  or 
cakes,  or  fuel  to  sell ; or  they  fall  asleep  b}'  their  scanty  stores, 
or  ]day  in  the  dirt,  or  smoke  at  the  nargile,  or  jabber  and  gos- 
sip and  (|uarrel,  or  run  after  the  passing  traveler  to  sell  him 
“antique,”  or  beg  of  him  “backshish,”  or  ride  on  donkeys,  or 
pick  the  lice  off  their  gowns.  Young  women  here,  as  in  Syria, 
look  oltl.  Tliere  are  really  no  young-looking  women,  though 
those  who  arc  young  have  a somewhat  more  graceful  form  and 
somewhat  better  faces  than  those  of  Syria.  These  people  live 
an  indescribably  strange  life. 

In  the  country  the  women  are  at  all  kinds  of  labor.  The 
men  are  plowing  with  what  Americans  would  call  little  more 
than  a crooked  stick,  to  which  are  attached  sometimes  two 
musk-oxen  or  Egy2)tian  oxen,  or  one  of  each,  or  an  ox  and  an 
ass,  or  a cow  and  an  ox,  or  two  cows,  or  an  ox  and  a camel,  or 
a single  camel.  Along  the  slo))es  up  the  sides  of  the  canals, 
much  of  the  land  is  cultivated  with  lioes.  A dozen  or  more 
men  are  often  to  be  seen  digging  away  in  the  hot  sun,  with 
their  bodies  bare  down  to  the  waist,  or  with  only  a cloth  or 
garment  tied  around  their  hips.  The  ]>eople  all  live  in  vil- 
lages and  towns;  and  these  peasant  towns  are  dirty  and  often 
unfitted  for  even  the  habitation  of  beasts. 

Cairo,  the  capital  of  Egypt,  is  the  residence  of  the  khedive, 
Avho  is  the  chief  ruler  of  Egypt,  but  wko  is  subject  to  the 
sultan  of  Turkey.  Cairo  is  both  a modern  and  an  oriental 
city.  It  is  modern  in  many  of  its  buildings,  which  are  very 
Hue,  and  after  the  Frtmch  style;  but  many  of  its  streets,  ba- 
zaars, and  people  still  have  the  oriental  style.  It  is  situated 
on  the  east  side  of  the  Nile,  one  hundred  and  thirty  miles 
from  Alexandria,  which  is  on  the  coast.  It  has  a mixed  popu- 


BLIND  PEOPLE. 


599 


lation  of  probably  three  hundred  and  fifty  thousand,  and  was 
founded  about  eight  hundred  years  ago.  It  is  about  two 
miles  wide  and  three  miles  long.  It  has  Jewish,  French,  and 
Copt  quarters.  It  has  some  most  luxuriant  gardens  filled 
with  the  most  delightful  trees  and  flowers,  from  the  palm  and 
banyan  down  to  the  most  delicate  of  blooming  plants.  It  has 
a number  of  splendid  hotels  where  foreigners  find  the  choicest 
entertainment.  These  surround  courts  or  gardens,  or  are  sur- 
rounded by  them,  which  present  the  beauty  of  the  tropical 
trees,  shrubs,  vines,  and  flowers.  Our  hotel,  the  Hotel  du  Nil, 
has  magnificent  rooms,  well  furnished,  a table  suited  to  the 
most  fastidious  tastes,  a court  of  beauty,  with  a large  octag- 
onal reading-room  in  its  center. 

There  is  no  place  where  there  are  so  many  blind  ])eople  as 
here.  You  see  men,  women,  and  children  at  every  step,  blind 
in  whole  or  in  one  eye.  Indeed  it  would  seem  to  be  the  fashion 
here  to  be  blind  at  least  in  one  eye.  The  most  popular  busi- 
ness is  begging.  One  anticii)atcs  a hundred  times  a day  the 
joy  of  the  time  when  he  shall  return  again  to  God’s  country, 
where  the  people  are  not  all  asking  for  backshish.  Hire  a 
carriage  and  pay  for  it,  and  you  must  pay  again.  Hire  a don- 
key and  pay  for  him,  and  pay  for  the  driver  of  the  donkey,  and 
make  him  a present  or  two  of  money  as  you  go  along,  and  be- 
fore you  are  done  with  him  he  is  calling,  “Good  donkey;  sat- 
isfied ?”  That  means,  if  it  is  all  right  “ Please  give-  me 
backshish.’’’’  If  one  does  not  so  understand  it  at  first,  he  will 
do  so  before  he  is  done  with  the  donkey.  Stout  young  men, 
as  well  as  old,  riding  or  leading  camels,  stop  in  the  road,  hold 
out  their  hands,  or  run  after  you  asking  “ backshish.”  Some- 
times when  you  just  want  to  be  alone,  want  to  study,  or  make 
an  entry  in  your  note-book,  this  anno\’ance  will  happen  to 
you  a half-dozen  times  at  once.  You  almost  want  to  kill 
somebody.  Your  soul  and  body  cry  out  for  deliverance,  but 
it  does  not  come. 

There  are  nearly  five  hundred  mosques  in  Cairo.  But  many 
of  these  seem  to  be  falling  into  ruins.  Most  of  them  are 
a kind  of  synagogue  to  which  the  people  are  permitted  to 


600 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


come  for  prayer  or  for  the  study  of  the  Koran  any  time  during 
the  day.  There  are  a few  mosques  which  are  noted.  The 
Mosque  of  Mohammed  Ali  is  perhaps  the  most  noted  of  all. 
This  is  rather  from  the  material  used  in  its  construction  than 
from  the  design  and  skill  of  its  architecture.  It  is  built 
entirely,  except  the  outside  wall,  of  beautiful  alabaster.  Its 
minarets  are  exceedingly  high.  It  contains  the  tomb  of  its 
founder,  after  whom  it  is  named.  The  vast  columns  and 
great  walls  of  pure  alabaster  present  a pleasing  spectacle  for 
the  eye.  The  citadel  close  by  was  the  scene  of  the  massa- 
cre of  the  Mamelukes,  in  1811.  There  are  a number  of  fine 
mosques  which  were  built  by  the  Mameluke  kings.  Some  of 
them  are  worthy  of  preservation  as  specimens  of  Arab  archi- 
tecture. Yet  a number  of  them  are  slowly  falling  into  decay. 
One  of  these  ancient  and  massive  structures,  held  in  high 
regard  by  the  Mohammedans,  is  called  the  Mosque  of  Hassan, 
after  the  grandson  of  Mohammed.  It  contains  the  shrine  of 
his  head,  which  was  taken  from  him  when  he  was  a youth. 

The  Mosque  Lazhar,  or  El  Azhar,  more  than  any  other  in 
Cairo,  repays  a visit.  It  coi. tains  the  largest  Mohammedan 
school  in  the  world.  W»  secured  a permit  from  the  govern- 
ment authorities  to  visit  this  school,  and  being  well  equipped 
with  interpreter,  guide,  and  soldiers,  succeeded  in  passing  sev- 
eral hours  within  the  precincts  of  this  wonderful  institution. 
We  were  assured  by  the  officials  that  fifteen  thousand  names 
of  students  were  enrolled.  There  are  in  the  mosque  vast 
courts  and  immense  chambers;  and  from  what  we  saw  of 
the  school  I should  estimate  that  from  six  to  ten  thousand 
persons  were  actually  in  attendance.  These  embrace  all  ages 
and  classes  of  persons  from  all  Mohammedan  countries.  Of 
course  the  women  are  not  allowed  to  be  taught  here,  or 
even  to  enter  the  place.  The  Koran  is  the  exclusive  text- 
book. Groups  numbering  from  twelve  to  seventy- five  were 
huddled  together,  seated  on  rugs,  around  a teacher  who  us- 
ually occupied  an  exalted  seat.  At  places  the  teacher  sat 
on  the  floor  in  the  middle  of  the  group.  Some  of  them  had 
tin  slates  and  were  copying  texts  from  the  Koran  with  a sharp 


MOHAMMEDAN  STUDENTS. 


601 


stick  and  ink.  There  seems  to  be  no  order  observed  in  the 
school,  and  they  Avere  coming  and  going  at  ]deasure,  and  all 
the  time  repeating  their  lessons.  Much  of  their  work  seemed 
to  be  to  recite  after  the  teacher.  This  whole  scene  makes  up 
a picture  which  one  can  never  forget.  There  Avere  evident 
signs  of  disapprobation  at  our  presence.  At  the  entrance  to 
the  mosque,  Avhere  our  company  took  off  their  shoes  in  true 
oriental  style,  some  objected  to  »ur  entering,  saying  “We  do 
not  knoAV  Avhat  the  Christians  Avant  in  here.”  Our  interpreter 
told  them  that  Ave  Avere  Americans,  and  no  respectable  Moham- 
medan Avould  haA^e  any  objection  to  our  entering  the  mosque. 
His  talk  was  quite  good;  but  under  all  such  circumstances  a 
permit  from  the  government  secured  through  the  American 
consul,  and  a good  guard  of  soldiers,  Avere  better  dependencies. 
We  Avere  sharply  Avatched  b}^  hundreds  of  the  Moslems,  and 
noAV  and  then  a hiss,  or  noise,  betokening  the  disfavor  Avith 
which  Ave  Avere  regarded,  saluted  us.  These  persons  come  from 
all  parts  of  the  Mohammedan  world,  and  go  out  as  priests, 
teachers,  and  conjurers,  to  delude  and  deceive  the  ignorant 
people. 

The  utter  lack  of  any  adequate  accommodations  for  those 
thousands  of  students  amazes  one.  About  the  different  courts 
and  porches  Avere  great  numbers  of  rude  boxes,  divided  into 
small  compartments  less  than  a foot  square.  Every  student 
has  one  of  these  little  holes  in  Avhich  he  keeps  his  books 
and  slate  and  pencil,  Avith  Avhatever  else  of  earthly  store 
he  may  possess.  The  great  portion  of  these  students  beg 
their  living,  or  get  it  in  whatever  way  they  can  earn  it. 
Those  not  reciting  AA'ere  sauntering  about  at  pleasure,  or 
studying  their  book,  or  eating  their  coar.se  meal,  or  Availing 
patiently  until  the  thin  cake,  spread  out  on  a flat  stone  to  dry 
in  the  broiling  sun,  should  be  done.  Much  of  their  bread 
is  prepared  in  this  mannei\ 

The  United  Presbyterian  Church  has  a most  prosperous 
mission  in  Egypt,  and  at  Cairo  their  work  is  well  established. 
They  have  excellent  buildings,  well  located.  The  buildings 
contain  school-rooms,  chapel,  and  residence  for  the  mission- 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


0G2 

aries.  Here  ^^■o  met  I)rs.  Watson  and  Harvey  and  other  mis- 
sionaries. The  Sahbath-school  and  Arabic  congregation  num- 
ber several  liundrcd.  On  Sabbath  ve  attended  the  various 
meetings,  and  the  writer  preached  at  the  hour  of  English 
service.  An  English  service  is  held  every  Sabbath,  though 
the  meeting  for  natives  is  much  more  largely  attended. 

The  streets  about  Cairo  are  crowded.  Some  of  them  are 
wide  and  attractive,  but  for  the  most  part  they  are  narrow 
and  crooked.  Camels,  donkeys,  mules,  and  tradesmen  jostle 
about  everywhere.  All  branches  of  trade  are  represented  in 
the  bazaars,  which  resemble  closelj’  tl:^ose  of  Constantinople. 
Persian  rugs,  silks  from  Damascus,  and  splendid  goods  from 
the  Indies,  all  oriental  in  magnificence,  appear  to  the  eye  in 
attractive  display. 

The  most  interesting  people  of  Eg^’pt  are  the  Copts,  who, 
though  not  easily  distinguished  by  a traveler  from  the  com- 
mon population,  have  maintained  their  peculiar  tenets  and 
religious  customs  from  ancient  times.  They  are  believed  to 
be  genuine  representatives  of  the  ancient  Egyjitians.  They 
retain  among  them  the  ancient  Egj'ptian  language,  though  it 
is  imperfectly  taught.  They  are  Christians  in  faith,  and  have 
maintained  their  religion  through  the  centuries,  though  they 
were  disowned  by  the  Council  of  Chalcedon,  in  A.  D.  451. 
They  follow  the  faith  of  the  Jacobite  sect,  believing  that  the 
human  and  divine  in  Christ  constituted  but  one  nature  and 
one  will.  In  their  dress  they  closely  resemble  the  Mohamme- 
dans. Some  of  the  Copts  hold  the  Koman  Catholic  faith. 
They  are  generally  educated,  and  in  intelligence  and  art  are 
the  superiors  of  the  Arabs.  Their  Avomen  are  secluded,  and 
their  marriage-feasts  are  attended  with  peculiar  ceremonies, 
such  as  ablutions  and  processions,  and  the  bride’s  stepping 
over  the  blood  of  a slain  lamb  at  the  door  of  the  bridegroom, 
the  coronation  of  the  bride  and  bridegroom,  and  protracted 
feastings.  They  have  a patriarch,  who  resides  at  Cairo,  and 
twelve  episcopal  sees.  They  number  about  two  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand.  Through  their  language  the  Egyptian  monu- 
mental inscriptioJis  have  been  interi^reted. 


CHAPTER  III. 


Festival  of  Hassan  — History  of  the  Celebration — Scene  in  the  Streets  — 
— Murderous  Procession  — Fanaticism  — Curious  Belief — Baal  Wor- 
shij). 


JfN  account  of  a curious  celebration  witnessed  by  the 
!!(  writer,  Avill  furnish  the  reader  an  idea  of  the  fanati- 
cisni  of  the  IMohammedan  people.  The  history  and 
celebration  of  many  of  the  religious  beliefs  of  the  Mo- 
;[&  hamniedans  would  make  chajiters  of  the  wildest  ro- 
I mance.  Among  the  most  striking  and  horrible  of  these 
feasts  is  that  of  Ilassan,  celebrated  on  the  tenth  of  the  month 
Maharam.  The  writer  Avitnessed  this  most  ai)palling  and 
blood-curdling  celebration  at  Cairo,  Egypt,  on  the  first  of  De- 
cember. 

It  commemorates  as  a religious  festiA’al  the  murder  of  Ilas- 
san the  grandson  of  Mohammed.  That  this  celebration  is 
under  the  control  of  the  assassins  is  very  probable,  but  this 
history  may  not  be  traced.  When  Mohammed  died  he  ap- 
pointed Aboo  Bukr  his  successor — a ])ious  and  generous  man, 
who  reigned  a little  OA'cr  tAvo  years.  Upon  his  death  Omar 
was  to  succeed  to  the  throne  of  Mohammed,  after  whom  0th- 
man  Avas  to  inherit  dominion  and  bear  the  authority  of  the 
great  Arabian  prophet.  These  thus  appointed  by  IMohammed 
Avere  ultimately  succeeded  by  Ali,  the  great  rival  of  Otbman, 
who  Avas  married  to  the  daughter  of  Mohammed.  Upon  the 
death  of  Ali,  El  Hassan,  his  son,  a mere  child,  succeeded  him 
in  Arabia,  and  thoAigh  A'ery  young,  nominally  reigned  six 
months.  Soon  a conspiracy  arose,  headed  by  Moaweeyah, 
AA'ho,  the  Mohammedans  claim,  succeeded  in  slaying  El  Has- 
san at  Bagdad,  after  AAdiich  Moaweeyah  became  the  caliph  and 

603 


604 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


the  head  of  tlie  Omeyyad  dynasty.  By  this  conspiracy  and 
the  death  of  El  Ilassan,  the  family  of  Mohammed  lost  coii' 
trol  of  the  government  vhich  he  had  established. 

At  Cairo  a mournful  and  cruelly  torturous  festival  is  annu- 
ally celebrated  on  .the  tenth  day  of  their  month  Maharam,  by 
the  Persian  Mohammedans  residing  in  Egypt,  in  commemora- 
tion of  the  assassination  of  El  Hassan  and  his  brother  El 
Hasseyn.  It  is  conducted  by  what  are  known  as  elars  or 
chiefs  among  these  religionists.  At  Bagdad  this  festival  has 
often  been  celebrated  with  cruelties  more  appalling  than  are 
to  be  witnessed  in  the  Egyptian  ceremonies,  resulting  often 
in  persons  being  so  infuriated  as  to  sacrifice  their  lives  in  the 
procession.  The  ceremonies  as  celebrated  in  Egypt  are  mel- 
ancholy, weird,  and  even  horrifying  beyond  description. 

Soon  after  dinner,  or  by  7 : 30  p.  m.,  our  company  hastened 
from  the  court  of  the  Hotel  du  Nil,  led  by  a faithful  guide, 
who  assured  us  he  knew  where  the  ceremonies  were  to  occur. 
We  were  soon  plunged  into  the  narrow,  crowded  streets,  which 
were  thronged  with  all  classes  of  persons  clad  in  oriental 
costume.  Women  closely  veiled,  clad  with  snow-white  robes 
or  richest  silk  garments,  sauntered  by  us  in  their  seclusive, 
oriental  modesty  and  concealed  beauty.  Others,  with  piercing 
eyes  peering  out  above  dark  veils  covering  the  lower  half  of 
the  face  and  below  the  heavier  head-covering,  and  with  noses 
mounted  with  that  strangest  of  all  woman’s  ornaments,  the 
nose -jewel,  glanced  bewitchingly  at  the  Americans  as  we 
passed.  Men  with  long,  flowing  robes  of  gaudiest  color  and 
shoes  of  dazzling  red,  or  girded  about  with  heavy  Bedouin 
cloaks,'  barefooted,  sauntered  here  and  there  in  crowds  and 
throngs,  as  we  pressed  our  way  up  the  narrow  streets,  around 
one  corner  after  another,  through  one  narrow  passage-way 
after  another,  on  and  on  until  we  were  in  a narrow  street  close 
by  the  great  Mosque  of  Hassan.  Investing  a few  piasters  in 
hiring  seats  which  were  carried  from  some  neighboring  cafe, 
we  sat  watching  the  throng  and  waiting  for  the  hour  of  cere- 
monies, really  not  knowing  what  awaited  our  vision. 

A motley  scene  presented  itself,  and  one  such  as  is  sel- 


SCENE  IN  THE  STREETS. 


605 


(lorn  seen  even  in  oriental  countries.  Hundreds  and  thousands, 
strangely  clad,  aimlessly  pressed  their  way  hither  and  thither, 
and  crowded  each  other  along  the  street.  There  were  men  of 
all  classes.  Among  this  multitude  now  came  a man  on  a 
donkey,  with  an  Arab  driver  pushing  and'  .scratching  and 
pounding  the  poor  creatui’e  to  crowd  and  goad  him  through  the 
throng.  Then  came  a veiled  woman,  astride  a fine  fat  donkey 
which  was  hurried  and  tortured  along  in  the  same  manner. 
Here  came  a royal  carriage,  and  before  it  two,  four,  or  six  her- 
alds, carrying  lances,  and  dressed  in  uniform,  calling  aloud  and 
clearing  the  way  for  the  chariot.  Then  tl>ere  were  men  with 
great  bundles  of  sugar-cane  on  their  hacks  or  heads,  selling  a 
stalk  now  and  then  to  some  hungry  boy  or  man,  who  at  once 
proceeded  to  take  his  dinner  from  it.  Then  another  with  a 
great  glass  jar  on  his  back,  filled  with  water,  crying  as  he  rat- 
tled his  brass  cups,  Aqua  huouof”  (good  water)  ; then  in  the 
Arabic  again  he  would  call  out,  ‘'’Moya/  moynf  moyaf  Aqua 
buono!'’’  letting  down  his  jar  and  pouring  out  a drink  to  those 
who  would  buy.  Following  would  come  a man  with  a great 
tray  or  basket  on  his  head,  mounted  with  a curious  lamp,  car- 
rying bread  to  sell.  Men  barefooted,  by  scores  and  hundreds, 
some  in  purely  oriental  dres.s,  Turkish  and  Greek,  and  others 
in  dress  half  oriental  and  half  European ; men  of  all  colors, 
and  men  attended  with  women ; women  alone,  strangely, 
some  gaudily,  many  poorly  clad;  women  with  children;  chil- 
dren half  clad,  from  three  to  six  years  old,  covered  with  dirt; 
children  well-dressed  and  clean,  some  walking,  some  running, 
some  quiet  or  swaying  with  the  throng,  some  pushing,  some 
talking  and  gesticulating  wildly,  some  hallooing  loudly. 
This,  altogether,  made  up  .such  a night-scene  as  mortal  eyes 
rarely  look  upon.  All  were  expectant  of  some  great  event, 
but  none  knew  when  the  procession  would  begin.  Thus  an 
hour  and  a half  wore  slowly  away. 

Suddenly  far  down  the  street,  as  emerging  from  some  inclos- 
ure, there  appeared  a band  of  about  forty  stout  men  bearing 
torches,  which  flickered  and  blazed  above  their  turbaned 
heads.  Closely  following  them,  riding  upon  a large  horse, 


606 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


came  a little  boy  about  six  3'ears  of  age.  The  horse  was 
closely  covered  with  white  cloth  striped  and  sprinkled  with 
blood,  presenting  a ghastly  appearance.  I could  scarcely  be- 
lieve my  sense  of  sight.  The  child  held  in  his  hand  a large, 
sharp  knife,  shaped  like  a small  crooked  sword,  which  he 
moved  about  him  and  above  his  head  in  every  direction,  ev- 
er}' now  and  then  drawing  the  sharp  blade  down  across  his 
head  from  front  to  rear,  butting  and  chopping  the  scalp  each 
time.  With  every  stroke  of  the  sword  the  crimson  blood 
streamed,  or  trickled,  down  over  his  foreliead  and  face  and 
body  upon  the  white,  close  covering  of  the  liorse,  pre.senting 
a sight  tlie  most  ghastly  and  horrifying  one  can  imagine. 
Never  a halt  in  the  procession  nor  a hesitancy  of  the  infu- 
riated lad  lulled  the  stately  horror  of  the  scene. 

This  scene  was  closely  followi-d  by  a company  of  about 
thirty  stout  men,  dressed  in  long  flowing  gowns,  with  their 
brawny  l)osoms  entirely  bare.  As  they  walked  they  threw 
their  arms  wildly  about  them,  smiting  their  left  bi'east  with 
the  right  hand  with  stunning  and  awful  force.  With  this 
they  cried  in  a pitiful,  mournful  tone,  “ El  Hassan,  El  Hassan, 
El  Hfu^srinP  Infuriated  with  their  demonstrations,  they 
seemed  with  every  stroke  to  almost  crush  their  breasts  as  they 
mourned  out,  “ El  Hassan,  El  Hassan.’' 

This  company  was  immediately  followed  by  four  men  bear- 
ing large  banners  with  devices  of  various  kinds.  Abreast  with 
them  on  either  side  of  the  street  aiipear(>d  the  foremost  of  an- 
other compan}'  of  about  fifty  persons,  like  the  former,  walk- 
ing rather  sideways  in  a line,  half  of  the  company  on  either 
side  of  the  street.  Between  this  company  of  men  rode  another 
boy  somewhat  larger  than  the  first  one,  gayly  dressed,  like  his 
predecessor,  having  his  head  shaved  entirely  bare.  He  also 
held  a sword  somewhat  larger  than  the  first  one,  which  he 
brandished  steadily  in  the  same  manner,  now  and  again  draw- 
ing it  down  upon  his  head  in  a murderous  manner,  cutting  a 
gash  with  every  stroke,  while  the  blood  ran  down  over  his 
gay  garments.  The  company  of  men  around  him,  like  the 
others,  cried  mournfully,  ^‘El  Hassan,  El  Hassan,  Allah,  Allah, 


MURDEROUS  PROCESSION. 


607 


El  Hassan.”  Some  of  them  held  their  hands  upon  their 
breasts.  Others  had  their  bodies  bare  down  to  the  waist,  and 
carried  scourges  made  of  small  chains,  with  which  they  smote 
themselves  in  the  most  beastly  and  barbarous  manner,  leav- 
ing great  bruises  with  every  stroke,  and  often  inflicting  gashes 
from  which  the  blood  oozed  forth,  and  trickled  down  over  the 
lower  ]>art  of  their  bodies. 

A third  company  of  the  same  size  followed  in  like  order,  in 
the  center  of  which  akso  rode  a boy,  jwobably  nine  years  of 
age,  dressed  in  gorgeous  robes  and  wielding  his  sword  in 
the  same  heart- sicki.-ning  and  demoniacal  manner.  His 
sharp,  minor-key  voice,  like  his  predecessors,  mingled  in  the 
melancholy  cries  of  the  men  around  him,  “Allah,  Allah,  El 
llassan,  El  IlassanP  With  almost  every  steji  of  the  horse  his 
sword  came  down  upon  his  bleeding  head,  carving  its  wa}'  to 
the  skull  with  every  stroke,  while  the  blood  flowed  more  freely 
than  from  any  of  the  others.  He  seemed  to  be  utterly  reck- 
less of  all  feeling  of  pain  or  fear  of  death,  and  went  on  in  the 
insane,  suicidal  process  with  the  precision  and  decision  of  an 
artist.  The  company  around  him  was  dressed  in  rich  Persian 
costume,  rvith  heads  shaved  entirely  bare,  and  they  filed 
slowly  along  the  street  in  the  same  order  as  those  who  had 
preceded  them.  Their  faces  were  thus  turned  directly  toward 
each  other;  and  in  their  hands  they  carried  huge  .swords, 
which  they  threw  and  hurled  about  them  in  the  most  insane 
manner,  crying  as  the  others,  in  the  most  mournful  tones,  “El 
llassan.”  Some  of  them  carried  great  knives.  In  the  same 
frantic  and  fanatical  manner  they  drew  their  knives  and 
swords  across  the  top  of  their  heads  in  various  directions, 
making  horrid  gashes  followed  by  drops  and  spurts  of  blood 
with  every  stroke.  The  scene  was  frightful  beyond  descrip- 
tion. Far  up  the  street  the  mystic,  fanatical-looking,  strangely- 
clad,  torturous,  murderous  procession  passed,  headed  by  the 
torch-light,  w'hile  here  and  there  the  lights  of  adjacent  win- 
dows, or  a torch-light,  flashing  out  upon  the  scene,  lent  terror 
to  the  somber  shadows  which  begloomed  the  festival  of  blood. 
Swaying  throngs  arid  crownls  of  thousands  pressed  hard  after 
them,  eager  to  catch  another  view  of  the  horrid  scene. 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


(K)8 

The  whole  ceremony  was  a species  of  religious  fanaticism 
of  the  most  astounding  character.  This  procedure  continued 
during  the  entire  time  needed  to  pass  the  Mosque  of  Hasssan, 
which  is  several  hundred  feet  long.  I was  glad  when  the  pro- 
cession was  out  of  sight,  though  we  were  left  to  the  merciless 
swaying  and  jam  of  a crowd  excited  almost  to  frenzy.  Thanks 
to  our  dragoman  and  several  policemen  for  a safe  arrival  at 
our  hotel.  We  could  do  nothing  but  allow  ourselves  to  be 
pressed  along  with  the  throng  for  a number  of  squares,  when 
the  mass  divided  and  we  could  choose  our  own  course. 

Every  year  this  strange  and  horrible  self-inflicted  cruelty 
is  practiced  by  these  deluded  Persian  Mohammedans.  The 
boys  and  men  who  are  the  mournful  and  bloody  performers  in 
the  ceremony  are  induced  to  their  part,  in  it  by  the  fact  that 
forever  afterward,  if  they  survive,  they  are  saints  of  a pecul- 
iarly high  order,  and  expect  to  be  the  recipients  of  very  great 
favors  from  Mohammed.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  influence 
of  western  civilization  may  soon  be  so  powerful  in  Egypt  as 
to  induce  the  authorities  to  abolish  such  atrocities  and  save 
the  victims  of  this  superstition  from  the  miseries  of  their 
fanatical  ceremonies,  as  well  as  the  public  from  witnessing 
such  demonstrations  of  self-inflicted  torture.  The  protection 
of  innocent  children,  the  sacredness  of  human  life,  and  the 
interests  of  public  decency,  all  demand  it. 

This  method  of  mourning  for  El  Hassan  is  in  striking  sim- 
ilarity with  idolatrous  worship  in  olden  times.  When  the  test 
of  fire  was  being  made  by  Elijah  and  the  priests  of  Baal  upon 
Mount  Carmel,  and  the  fire  came  not  down  upon  the  altar 
even  till  noontide,  the  prophet  “mocked  them,  and  said.  Cry 
aloud.”  Then  the  prophets  of  Baal  “ cried  aloud,  and  cut 
themselves  after  their  manner  with  knives  and  lancets,  till  the 
blood  gushed  out  upon  them.”  (I.  Kings  xviii.  28).  This 
same  appeal  of  blood  is  made  in  the  festival  of  Hassan  year 
by  year,  only  tenfold  more  horrible. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


Visit  to  the  Pyramids — Arabs — Burial  Ground  of  Egypt  — Cheops — Size 
of  the  Pyramid  — Interior  of  Cheops  — Queen’s  Chamber — Sarcoph- 
agus in  the  King’s  Chamber — Ascending  the  Pyramids  — View  from 
the  Top  of  Cheops  — Pyramid  of  Cephren— An  Arab  Race  Down 
the  Pyramid  — The  Sphinx. 

^IjURING  our  stay  in  Egypt,  one  day  was  spent  at  the 
great  pyramids  of  Ghizeh.  These  pyramids  have 
~r  long  been  numbered  among  the  tvonders  of  the  world. 

There  are  nearly  one  hundred  of  them  in  the  valley  of 
the  Nile,  all  of  which  are  on  the  west  side  of  the  river. 
Those  at  Ghizeh  are  the  largest  and  most  interesting. 
The  trip  to  these,  from  Cairo,  is  made  by  carriages,  and  they 
can  be  reached  in  a drive  of  about  one  hour  and  a half.  There 
is  an  elegant  iron  bridge  over  the  Nile  above  Boolak,  a suburb 
of  the  city,  and  beyond  the  bridge  the  way  lies  over  an  excel- 
lent road  leading  up  the  Nile  for  a distance,  then  straight  to 
the  pyramids  for  about  four  or  five  miles.  On  both  sides  of 
this  entire  drive  is  a row  of  large  acacia-trees,  the  boughs  of 
which  meet  over  the  w\ay  so  as  to  form  a perfect  arbor  and 
delightful  shade.  The  drive  is  thus  rendered  a very  pleasant 
one.  The  visitor  soon  finds  his  carriage  attended  by  Arabs, 
who  at  every  little  space  join  in  the  chase,  having  “antiques,” 
scarabs,  images,  gods,  etc.,  for  sale.  This  crowd  increases 
every  quarter  of  a mile,  despite  your  repeatedly  telling  them 
that  you  do  not  want  any.  Thus  you  learn  that  the  trip  to 
the  pyramids  is  to  have  a “ thorn  in  the  flesh.”  Each  Arab 
w’ants  to  sell.  He  also  wants  to  guide  you  up  the  pyramid. 
He  says  over,  “ Amerka,”  “ Yankee  Doodle,”  and  a few  English 
words  he  has  picked  up,  for  the  purpose  of  pleasing  you. 

609 


61U 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


Tliese  Arabs  can  outrun  a race-liorse,  and  keep  at  it  all  day. 
"Don't  you  get  tired?”  I asked  one  who  had  run  a couple  of 
miles  hy  the  side  of  our  carriage  trying  to  efi'ect  a sale.  The 
answer  came,  “This  me  heesnos, — run  all  day."  And  sure 


enough,  barefooted  and  bareheaded,  with  a simple  gown  on 
him,  he  was  Avith  the  croAA'd  of  others  AA’hen  we  reached  the 
pyramids.  Old  men,  who  seemed  to  be  the  children  of  Methu- 
selah, ran  all  the  same. 

But  all  the  way  there  are  the  dusky  forms  of  these  ancient 
toAA'ers  just  before  you,  rising  in  grandeur  with  the  nearing 
approach  to  them.  There  is  nothing  like  them  on  the  face  of 
the  globe. 


CHEOPS. 


611 


These  pyramids  stand  on  a plateau  of  rock  about  one  hun- 
dred feet  above  the  level  of  the  plain  of  the  Xile.  From  the 
fourth  dynasty,  that  is,  from  about  two  thousand,  five  hundred 
vears  before  the  Christian  era,  for  many  centuries,  it  was  one 
of  the  great  burial-grounds  of  Egyi)t.  The  origin  and  design 
of  the  pyramids  have  been  the  subject  of  more  discussion  by 
Egyptologists  than  perhaps  any  other  one  question.  With  all 
possible  respect  for  the  learning,  study,  and  research  of  those 
who  have  held  to  the  various  theories  respecting  the  design  of 
those  pyramids,  I can  hold  but  one  opinion.  The  simi>le 
observer  who  comes  here  to  look  upon  these  wonders  in  their 
ostensible'  relations  can  not  conceive  of  them  as  being  other 
than  great  monumental  tombs  erected  to  perpetuate  the  mem- 
ory, name,  and  fame  of  their  founders.  All  the  internal  de- 
sign culminates  in  the  sarcophagus  and  its  chamber.  One 
fact  which  of  itself  is  sufficient  to  settle  this  question  is  the 
location,  — always  in  a necropolis.  They  are  always  sur- 
rounded by  tombs. 

The  great  pyramid,  Cheops,  dates  back,  so  far  as  can  be 
known,  to  the  fourth  dynasty,  about  two  thousand,  five  hun- 
dred years  before  Christ;  though  some  endeavor  to  place  its 
origin  quite  beyond  that  date.  Herodotus  writes  of  this  pyra- 
mid, and  of  the  vast  number  of  persons  employed  in  its  con- 
struction. He  says  one  hundred  thousand  men  were  employed 
all  the  time,  with  the  company  changed  every  three  months, 
for  thirty  years.  Ten  years  were  employed  in  constructing  the 
causewa}'  by  which  the  stone  could  be  brought  from  the  quar- 
ries, and  twenty  years  in  the  actual  building  of  the  pyramid. 
Diodorus  and  Pliny  also  write  of  this  pyramid,  hut  they  disa- 
gree in  some  respects  with  Herodotus.  They  assert  that  three 
hundred  and  sixty  thousand  men  were  employed  in  its  build- 
ing. These  writers  speak  of  the  stone  as  being  brought  from 
Arabia.  It  is  probable  that  a considerable  part  of  the  magne- 
sian limestone  was  taken  from  the  quarries  a few  miles  south 
of  Cairo,  on  the  east  of  the  Nile.  But  nummulite  stone  com- 
poses much  of  the  pyramid.  The  structure  of  these  pyramids 
is  in  layers  of  great  stone  from  six  to  ten  feet  long,  and  from 


612 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


two  to  five  feet  thick.  The  lower  courses  are  thickest.  Each 
layer  recedes  from  that  on  which  it  is  placed,  so  as  to  form  a 
step  whose  width  is  almost  equal  to  its  height.  These  were, 
originally,  cased  over  with  hard  stone,  so  siuiped  as  to  make; 
the  surface  perfectl}'  even  and  smooth  All  of  this  casing  ha.'^-- 
been  long  torn  off  from  the  large  pyramid  and  used  for  build- 
ing purposes.  Most  of  it  has  also  been  removed  from  the  sec- 
ond pyramid.  On  the'top  of  the  last  mentioned,  however,  the 
covering  or  casing  remains,  presenting  a plain,  smooth  sur- 
face. The  mortar  used  in  the  construction  remains  as  hard  as 
the  stone  itself.  1 can  hardly  expect  to  give  the  reader  any 
adequate  idea  of  the  immensity  and  impo.sing  grandeur  of  Che- 
ops, this  giant  of  the  ages  past.  The  measurement  of  Colonel 
H.  Vyse  is  as  follows  : “ Length  of  each  side  when  entire,  seven 
hundred  and  sixty-four  feet;  present  length,  seven  hundred 
and  forty-six  feet;  former  perpendicular  height,  four  hundred 
and  eighty  feet  and  nine  inches  ; present  perpendicular  height, 
four  hundred  and  fifty  feet  and  nine  inches ; former  area  cov- 
ered, thirteen  acres,  one  rood,  and  two  jwles;  present  area  cov- 
ered, twelve  acres,  three  roods,  and  three  poles.”  The  solid 
contents  have  been  calculated  at  eighty-five  million  cubic  feet. 
It  is  higher 'than  the  dome  of  St.  Peter’s,  or  St.  Paul’s  at  Lon- 
don, the  former  being  four  hundred  and  twenty-nine,  the  lat- 
ter four  hundred  and  four  feet.  It  is  only  a little  lower 
than  the  tower  of  the  Strasburg  Cathedral,  which  is  the  high- 
est in  Europe  — four  hundred  and  sixty-one  feet. 

The  interior  of  the  pyramid  is  even  more  interesting  than 
the  exterior.  Its  entrance  is  from  the  north  side.  Formerly, 
for  perhaps  three  thousand  years  or  more,  its  entering-place 
was  unknown,  and  was  at  last  penetrated  or  discovered  after 
long  and  discouraging  efforts,  the  workmen  penetrating  more 
than  one  hundred  feet  through  solid  rock.  This  forced  en- 
trance has  long  been  closed  with  stone,  the  real  entrance  hav- 
ing been  opened  and  found  more  convenient.  The  entrance 
is  about  twenty-three  feet  from  the  center  of  the  northern 
side  and  forty-five  feet  from  the  bottom.  It  is  reached  by 
climbing  up  over  a mass  of  stones  and  debris,  which  has  accu- 


INTERIOR  OF  CHEOPS. 


613 


mulated  largely  from  the  decaying  structure.  There  is  a stone 
of  vast  size  over  which  four  other  large  blocks  of  stone  are 
laid,  dressed  and  placed  so  as  to  form  the  appearance  of  a steep 
arched  roof.  Upon  entering,  duly  equipped  with  candles  and 
an  Arab  guide,  we  first  came  into  an  inclined  passage,  three 
feet  five  inches  in  height  and  three  feet  eleven  inches  in  width, 
running  downward  at  an  angle  of  about  twenty-six  degrees. 
This  passage  continues  in  a straight  direction  for  three  hun- 
dred and  twenty  feet.  From  its  lower  end  another  horizontal 
passage,  somewhat  smaller,  and  tw'enty-seven  feet  long,  leads 
to  the  sepulchral  chamber,  forty-six  feet  long,  twenty-seven 
feet  wide,  and  eleven  and  a half  feet  high.  We  did  not,  how- 
ever, follow  the  passage  to  this  lower  chamber,  but  stopped 
sixty-three  feet  from  the  place  of  entering  the  pyramid  and 
turned  abruptly  around  to  the  right,  through  the  passage 
effected  at  the  time  of  the  opening  of  the  i^yramid.  Climbing 
up  over  high  rocks  by  means  of  niches  cut  for  the  hand  in 
their  surface,  we  entered  another  passage,  ascending  at  about 
the  same  angle  of  the  descent  of  the  first.  This  is  follow'ed 
for  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  feet,  until  it  enters  what  is 
called  the  “Great  Gallery.”  At  this  point  a horizontal  passage 
proceeds  a distance  of  one  hundred  and  ten  feet,  entering  into 
what  is  called  the  “Queen’s  Chamber,”  which  stands  directly 
under  the  center  or  apex  of  the  p}^ramid,  sixty-seven  feet 
above  its  base,  and  four  hundred  and  seven  feet  below  its 
summit,  and  seventy-one  feet  below  the  upper  or  King’s 
Chamber.  It  is  eighteen  feet  nine  inches  long,  seventeen  feet 
wide,  and  twenty  feet  high. 

We  took  time  to  examine,  besides  the  Great  Gallery,  what  is 
called  a well  —an  irregular  passage,  nearly  vertical,  one  hundred 
and  ninety-one  feet  deep,  evidently  cut  in  the  rock  after  the 
building  of  the  pyramid  as  a means  of  communication  with  the 
lower  passage.  It  is  about  two  and  a half  feet  square.  Having 
looked  down  it  sufficiently,  we  continued  our  way  through  the 
Great  Gallery,  which  is  on  the  same  ascending  angle  as  the  pas- 
sage up  which  we  had  passed.  It  widens  to  seven  feet,  and 
its  height  is  given  at  twenty-eight  feet.  The  passage  of  the 


614 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


gallery  on  the  floor  is  narr(.)wed  by  a ramp  on  each  side,  twenty 
inches  wide  and  two  feet  high.  It  would  be  difficult  to  make 
the  ascent  were  it  not  for  niches  cut  in  the  rock,  for  the  feet, 
at  convenient  intervals.  We  ascended  through  this  ]xissage, 
or  gallery  as  it  is  called,  one  hundred  and  fifty-one  feet  into 
a short  vestibule,  from  which  is  a short  passage  into  the 
King’s  Chamber.  The  workmanship  in  the  gallery  through 
which  we  thus  ])assed  is  very  fine,  the  stone  being  jointed  pre- 
cisely, and  each  one  of  the  eight  courses  of  stom;  projecting 
al)OUt  tliree  or  four  inches  over  the  one  on  which  it  is  placed. 
The  King's  Chamber  into  which  we  thus  effected  our  way  is 
the  principal  ebamher  of  the  structure.  It  is  thirty-four  feet 
three  inclics  long,  seventeen  feet  one  inch  wide,  and  nine- 
teen feet  one  inch  high.  Its  position  is  a little  south  of  the 
center  of  the  pyramid,  perpendicularly,  and  its  floor  is  one 
hundred  and  thirty-eight  feet  from  the  base  of  the  structure. 
The  ceiling  is  flat  and  made  of  plain  blocks  of  granite  resting 
on  the  side  walls.  The  workmanship  in  this  chamber  is  very 
exact  and  handsome,  and  the  joints  in  the  walls  and  ceiling  are 
so  closely  fitted  that  the  thinnest  substance  could  not  he  in- 
serted between  the  stones.  This  beauty  of  art  appeared  strik- 
ingly when  the  chamber  was  illuminated  by  the  burning  of 
magnesium  wire.  It  is  an  awful  surrounding  presence.  The 
chamber  thus  incased  in  these  massive  walls  of  rock  on  every 
side,  and  hundreds  of  feet  above,  contains  absolutely  nothing 
but  a sarcophagus  of  red  granite  resting  in  the  upper  end  of  the 
chamber.  It  has  no  lid  and  bears  no  inscriptions.  It  meas- 
ures, according  to  Colonel  Vyse,  about  seven  feet  six  inches  in 
length,  three  feet  three  inches  in  width,  and  three  feet  four 
inches  in  height  on  the  outside.  The  thickness  of  its  sides  is 
about  six  inches.  Relic-mongers  have  picked  at  it  for  centu- 
ries, until  its  sides  have  been  greatly  destroyed, — almost  one 
third  of  one  side  being  thus  broken  away.  In  this  place  of  sul- 
len darkness  some  king  of  Egypt  took  up  his  last  abode  among 
the  dead,  thousands  of  years  ago.  But  all  has  departed  now. 
No  echo  of  this  deep  darkness  comes  to  our  ears  to  tell  the 
story  of  the  proud  monarch  whose  dust  was  once  deposited 


ASCENDING  THE  PYRAMID. 


615 


]unv>.  Alas!  how  the  proudest  glory  fades;  and  unibitious 
triumphs  are  lost  iii  the  rolling  ages!  The  sensations  and 
feelings  which  follow  tlie  reflections  of  one  standing  in  this 
tomb  of  surpassing  monumental  greatness,  are  not  to  be  de- 
scribed. 

We  found  the  entrance  much  less  difficult  than  had  been 
expected.  The  dust  and  suffocating  heat  were  the  worst  things 
to  be  experienced,  while  the  smoothness  of  the  inclined  rocky 
l)assages  rendered  it  sometimes  difficult  to  })roceed.  There  are 
three  small  chamhers  immediately  above  the  King’s  Chamber; 
but  these  can  only  be  reached  with  difficulty,  and  none  of  our 
company  undertook  it.  Having  explored  quite  as  far  as  was 
desirable,  our  exit  was  made  by  tlie  same  passage  through 
which  we  had  entered. 

If  the  entering  and  traversing  of  the  internal  chambers  of 
the  pyramid  have  a depressing  and  overawing  influence  upon 
the  spirit,  the  previously  made  ascent  to  its  apex  had  enough 
of  the  heroic,  the  novel,  and  the  perilous,  to  give  courage  to 
any  task.  It  was  indeed  a novel  sight  to  behold,  as  well  as  a 
heroic  thing  to  do.  Our  company  of  over  a dozen  all  as- 
cended at  once.  The  old  sheik  who  has  charge  of  the  pyra- 
mid was  paid  two  francs  apiece  for  attendants  furnished,  and 
the  helpful  and  enthusiastic  Arabs  paraded  out  to  the  com- 
pany, or  rather  the  company  turned  over  to  the  Arabs,  and 
the  ascent  began.  We  went  up  at  the  north-east  corner  and 
descended  on  the  .south-west  corner.  Each  step  is  from  two 
to  five  feet  high.  Often  the  stones  are  broken  off  so  that  one 
mirst  travel  a distance  to  the  right  or  left,  or  around  the  cor- 
ner to  where  another  step  can  be  made.  Three  Arabs  took 
the  writer  in  charge, — one  held  him  by  the  right  hand,  an- 
other by  the  left.  Their  gowns  were  closely  tucked  about 
the  bodies,  and  they  climbed  up  like  squirrels  on  a tree.  The 
two  climbed  above  and  pulled,  while  one  followed  behind  with 
a strong  push  and  a “harp”  with  the  making  of  every  step. 
And  thus  pulled  at  and  pushed  at  and  tormented  with  the 
questions  of  the  Arabs,  “Satified?”  “ All  right?”  “All  good?” 
all  of  which  had  a bearing  on  the  backshish  (though  we  had  a 


616 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


contract  that  they  were  to  be  paid  at  the  end  of  the  task,  and 
not  a word  was  to  be  said  about  backshish),  I at  last,  and  with- 
out a stop  to  rest,  reached  the  summit  of  this  majestic  height. 
The  attendants  insisted  upon  stopping  to  look  about,  and 
wanted  to  rub  my  limbs,  while  a lad  wanted  me  to  drink 
some  water;  but  I declined  all  these,  and  made  them  pull 
and  push  without  intermission,  until  the  heiglit  w.is  scaled. 

The  view  from  this  lofty  eminence  is  one  to  be  desired. 
There  is  a square  of  about  thirty  feet,  with  a few  huge  blocks 
of  stone  on  which  we  could  sit  and  look  about  with  wonder. 
Southward,  toward  the  noontide  sun,  in  the  sands  of  the 
desert,  stand  up  the  pyramids  of  Sakkarah,  Ab«o  Seer,  and 
Dashoor — eleven  in  full  sight.  All  about  them,  and  beyond  as 
far  as  the  eye  can  reach,  are  continued  hills  or  elevations  of 
sand.  A mist,  or  fog,  seemed  to  be  sifting  thinly  down  over 
the  grayish  pyramids  in  the  distance.  Just  to  the  left,  facing 
toward  the  rising  of  the  sun,  is  the  luxuriant  valley  of  the 
Nile  skirting  up  against  the  desert.  The  valley  is  dotted  with 
pools  cut  through  with  channels  and  canals  for  the  water, 
and  divided  in  many  places  by  winding  streams.  Here  and 
there  are  little  villages,  and  about  them  beautiful  groves  of 
graceful  palms,  which  in  the  distance  somewhat  resemble  the 
tall  pine  of  the  American  forest.  In  the  distance  is  the  broad 
stream  of  the  life-giving  Nile,  and  beyond  it  the  Mokattam 
hills,  with  the  quarries  of  Mosarah,  from  which  many  of  these 
huge  stones  were  lifted.  Stretching  far  southward,  at  a dis- 
tance of  eight  miles  away,  and  beyond  the  Nile,  is  Cairo, 
stretching  like  a crescent  with  its  convex  side  to  the  Nile,  and 
its  concave  circling  apparently  about  the  castle  on  Avhich 
stands  the  Mosque  of  Ali,  with  its  tall  minarets  piercing  the 
very  heavens.  Across  this  plain,  or  valley,  stretches  the  high- 
way eastward,  like  a line  or  row  of  green  acacias,  with  its  far- 
ther end  lost  in  the  city.  Northward,  far  as  the  eye  can 
reach,  the  valley  of  the  Nile,  fertile  and  decked  with  groves  of 
green,  seems  to  widen  greath\  Westward  is  the  Sahara  wdth 
its  endless  plains  of  burning  sand.  Looking  downward  over 
the  rugged  slope  of  the  pyramid  from  its  edge,  nearly  five  hun- 


VIEW  FROM  THE  TOP  OF  CHEOPS. 


617 


dred  feet,  your  head  has  a sense  of  giddiness  you  do  not  wish 
to  feel  again.  The  coaches  and  busses  and  men  about  them 
are  but  apparent  toys.  Close  to  the  south  and  west  stand 
the  two  adjacent  pyramids,  — the  one,  Cephren,  almost  as 
large  as  Cheops,  and  the  other  behind  it,  Menkara,  only  half 
the  dimensions  of  Cheops,  or  less,  but  beautiful  to  look  upon, 
doubtless,  when  long  ago,  untouched  by  the  cruelty  of  time, 
it  represented  the  ideal  beauty  and  strength,  of  kings  who 
disappeared  from  men  long  before  the  most  ancient  records 
of  profane  history.  About  your  feet  are  thousands  of  names 
carved  in  the  solid  rock.  Visitors  are  eager  to  leave  their 
names  on  the  great  pyramid.  Among  these  are  the  initials  of 
the  Prince  of  Wales,  marked  by  his  own  hand  and  carved  by 
his  guide.  I had  a nervous  feeling  of  achievement  as  my 
feet  stood  upon  the  top  of  this  huge  structure  of  wondrous 
fame,  like  which  there  is  none  other  on  the  globe,  built  to 
perpetuate  the  name  and  fame  of  those  really  unknown.  The 
very  thought  of  the  past  in  which  their  memory  or  times  are 
placed,  seemed  thinner  and  more  vague  to  the  intellect  than 
the  filmy  clouds  which  like  spider-webs  sj^read  all  over  the 
heavens.  This  pyramid  stands  amid  the  sands  of  the  desert, 
which  seem  eager  to  spread  farther  eastward  and  cover  the 
fertile  plain.  It  is  on  tlie  verge  of  the  desert  and  the  plain. 
It  marks  the  place  of  high  ambition.  Its  shadow  falls  all  the 
day  over  unnumbered  tombs  whose  decaying  walls  are  half 
buried  in  the  desert  sand.  And  thus,  as  we  try  to  look  back 
over  the  past  history  which  it  would  join  to  the  green  and 
living  present,  it  presents  in  the  far-away  only  a desert.  How 
wide  or  fruitful  the  green  plain  on  this  side  the  sands,  only 
the  ages  to  come  shall  tell.  It  is  not  alone  the  age  of  the  pyr- 
amids that  impresses  one.  The  sweep  of  time  past,  and  the 
thought  of  kings  and  nations  dead  which  beheld  these  monu- 
ments of  that  ancient  and  wonderful  civilization,  bewilders  the 
imagination.  Such  a scene  I shall  never  witness  again.  But 
the  pyramids,  like  the  mountains,  laugh  at  time  and  change. 

At  the  suggestion  of  some  of  the  company  two  Arabs  ran  a 
race  from  the  top  of  the  great  pyramid  on  which  we  W'ere 


618 


eoypt-lasd  of  the  pharaohs. 


standing  to  the  top  of  Cephren.  Tlie  one  made  the  descent 
in  tn  o minutes,  in  tiro  minutes  more  lie  ivalked  leisiirelv  across 
t e plateau  to  the  other  pyramid,  and  in  six  niinutra  more 
c imbed  to  the  summit.  We  ivere  conten,  to  g„  doivn  more 
slo-uly.  Ilolding  to  the  hands  of  the  two  Arabs,  and  with  a 
turban  tied  about  my  waist  and  the  tliird  man  beliind  to  hold 
me  back,  I stepped,  and  slijiped.  and  jumped  down  oyer  one 
step  after  another  until  I stood  at  host  on  the  ground  below 
tired  and  contented.  ’ 


Several  other  smaller  pyramids  besides  those  just  mentioned 
of  which  I can  give  no  further  description,  stand  a little  wav 
east  of  Cheo])s. 


Nearly  a quarter  of  a mile  east  and  a little  south  of  the  <^reat 
pyramid  is  the  Sphinx.  It  is  one  of  the  most  remarkaWe  of 


SPHINX. 

all  the  objects  of  antiquity  found  in  Egypt.  The  more  recent 
discoveries  of  Mariette  have  led  to  the  conclusion  that  the 
Sphinx  is  of  greater  antiquity  than  even  the  pyramids  them- 
selves. It  is  the  image  of  a great  human-headed  lion  cut  out  of 
the  native  rock.  It  is  called  the  Sphinx  of  IIor-em-Khoo,  of 
which  god  it  is  a supposed  image.  The  Arabs  speak  of  it  as  the 
Father  of  Terrors.”  Most  of  the  colossal  form  is  covered  with 


THE  SPIIEXX. 


619 


the  sand.  The  breast,  shoulders,  and  head,  however,  stand  out 
in  bold  appearance.  “ Hor-em-Khoo  ” means  “ the  sun  in  its 
resting-place,"’  and  it  is  the  supposition  that  he  had  the  king's 
life  in  his  hands.  The  body  of  this  creature  of  strange  fancy 
is  no  less  than  one  hundred  and  forty  feet  long,  while  the 
head  and  face  alone,  from  the  top  to  the  chin,  is  thirty  feet, 
and  the  width  of  the  face  from  side  to  side  fourteen  feet. 
Mariette  removed  the  surrounding  sand  down  to  its  base,  and 
found  its  measurement  from  the  bas(>  to  the  crown  to  be  about 
sixty  feet.  lie  discovered  between  its  legs  an  altar,  which  the 
worshii)er  of  Ilorus  reached  by  a flight  of  steps  cut  in  the 
rock.  It  is  the  mo.st  wonderful  monument  <jf  all  Egypt. 
This  awful  face  and  head  once  wore  a cap  and  beard;  but 
with  these  time  has  dealt  cruelly,  for  both  have  been  knocked 
almost  entirely  off.  The  face  looks  direct!}'  east,  and  pr(?sents 
a picture  of  a strange  design  and  mold  of  some  ancient  ideal 
of  beauty.  Close  to  it  ai’e  the  royal  sepulchers,  partially  ex- 
cavated from  the  great  banks  of  sand,  while  north  are  the 
remains  of  an  ancient  pavement  leading  from  the  royal  tombs 
toward  the  second  pyramid.  The  color  of  the  Sphinx  is  red- 
dish, as  if  the  red  sands  had  given  its  color.  The  stone  shows 
various  strata  very  distinctly.  The  preservation  of  the  form 
and  expression  is  a marvel,  though  truth  must  confess  that 
a large  portion  of  the  nose  has  gone  to  pay  tribute  to  some 
museum. 

The  annoyance  anticipated  from  the  Arabs  about  the  pyra- 
mids far  exceeded  our  utmost  expectation.  There  is  no  place 
in  all  the  Orient  where  the  traveler  is  so  persistently  tor- 
mented as  here.  Through  an  engagement  made  to  have  con- 
trol of  a large  room  in  an  adjacent  building,  erected  as  a kind 
of  lunch-house,  we  had  comparative  peace  for  a half  hour, 
while  taking  lunch.  During  the  remainder  of  the  time  there 
were  from  two  to  a dozen  Arabs  following  us  all  the  while, 
incessantly  pulling  and  coaxing  and  begging  me  to  give  them 
backshish,  or  to  buy  a scarab,  or  some  other  worthless  trinket, 
or  representation  of  an  Egyptian  god  or  of  a mummy.  Some 
were  determined  to  render  service  by  showing  us  something 


620 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


about  the  place.  Again  and  again  they  were  assured  that 
their  services  were  not  needed,  but  all  to  no  effect.  When 
driven  off  they  would  notice  the  direction  in  which  we  were 
going,  and  when  we  had  reached  some  place  of  interest  they 
would  suddenly  put  in  their  presence  and  at  once  render  un- 
solicited service  in  pointing  out  things  which  we  could  have 
seen  better  if  left  alone.  Some  of  our  company  had  literally 
to  stone  and  cane  the' Arabs  fiom  following  them.  Upon 
descending  the  great  pyramid  I gave  each  of  the  three  attend- 
ants backshish,  which  for  a time  seemed  to  satisfy  them.  But 
soon  the  one  who  had  descended  the  pyramid  behind  me 
demanded  half  a franc  (ten  cents)  for  the  use  of  his  turban. 
He  had  taken  his  turban,  (a  long,  narrow  piece  of  white  cotton 
cloth),  from  around  his  head  and  fastened  it  about  my  body, 
while  he  went  behind,  holding  to  it  with  the  view  to  prevent 
my  falling.  Though  I had  paid  him  well  for  his  services,  he 
insisted  upon  this  claim.  He  followed  me  for  a half  hour, 
until  I was  compelled  to  yield  to  his  plea,  and  gave  him  the 
coin,  which  he  received  in  a sullen  and  unthankful  manner. 
These  Arabs  are  shrewd,  and  understand  their  business.  They 
can  talk  very  little  English,  having  picked  up  some  sentences 
from  travelers.  Our  guide  said  they  could  at  once  pick  out 
the  Americans  and  Englishmen  of  our  company;  and  atone 
time  we  submitted  a number  of  them  to  the  test,  there  being 
three  gentlemen  from  England  in  our  company.  In  every  case 
they  answered  correctly, — “ English,”  or  “ Americie,”  as  they 
discerned  the  nationality  of  the  person.  Such  a little  episode 
and  display  of  their  skill  increased  their  relish  and  hope  of 
backshish.  W’hen  the  carriages  were  driven  out  and  we  were 
ready  to  depart,  the  throng  increased.  Some  held  to  the  wheels 
of  the  vehicles,  and  others  held  to  our  clothes,  intent  upon 
getting  more  money,  until  we  drove  them  off  with  our  canes, 
and  the  driver  drawing  up  the  lines  and  cracking  his  whip, 
hastened  down  the  hill  out  of  their  reach.  Most  of  these 
pests  were  stout  young  men,  while  a few  w'ere  old  and  de- 
crepit. The  whole  procedure  is  a licensed  robbery,  and  a dis- 
grace to  the  government  of  Egypt. 


CHAPTER  V. 


Visit  to  Heliopolis  — Watering  of  Lands  — Virgin’s  Tree — City  of  On  — 
Obelisk  of  Heliopolis  — Marriage  of  Joseph  — Decay  of  Ages. 

our  stay  at  Cairo  I made  a visit  to  Heliopolis, 
situated  six  miles  north  of  Cairo.  Having  enjoyed 
a considerable  amount  of  donkey -riding,  our  com- 
pany  chose  a carriage  for  this  trip.  The  road  over  a 
^ sandy  plain  is  delightful.  Along  the  road  there  are  beau- 
' tiful  gardens  and  small  farms,  and  at  many  places,  in- 
deed almost  at  every  small  farm,  there  is  a water  elevator  for 
the  purpose  of  dipping  up  the  water  from  the  channels  below 
and  pouring  it  out  in  the  channels  a few  feet  higher,  in  which 
it  is  carried  over  the  field,  and  to  distant  fields  beyond.  The 
construction  is  very  simple,  and  consists  of  a large,  rude  cog- 
wheel, which  lies  horizontally  four  or  five  feet  from  the  earth, 
and  a smaller  wheel  into  which  it  works  fastened  upon  a stout 
shaft.  Over  this  shaft  is  a heavy  band  with  large  buckets 
holding  a gallon  or  more  each,  placed  at  a distance  of  a foot' 
from  each  other  on  the  belt.  This  is  turned  by  a donkey,  if 
small,  but  usually  with  a yoke  of  oxen  or  a single  musk-ox 
attached  to  a sweep.  The  buckets  turning  over  the  shaft 
empty  out  the  water  into  a trough,  which  carries  it  to  the 
channel.  In  some  places  men  and  women  dip  the  water  up. 

Some  were  seeding  the  ground,  while  there  were  fields  of 
barley  almost  ready  for  the  reapers.  The  crops  are  produced 
earlier  or  later  as  the  husbandman  chooses,  and  according  to 
the  time  when  he  floods  the  land  and  sows  the  seed. 

Near  the  valley  of  Matareah  is  a beautiful  garden  owned  by 
a Copt.  Just  to  the  right  of  the  road  a little  distance  is  the 

621 


622 


EGYPT  — LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


“ Virgin’s  Tree.”  It  is  a fine  old  sycamore,  no  doubt  of  great 
age,  and  under  its  spreading  branches  and  boughs  the  holy 
family  are  said  to  have  found  shelter.  Where  this  tradition 
is  obtained  I do  not  know.  The  tree  is  as  greatly  venerated 
by  the  Egyptians  as  is  the  Oak  of  Abraham,  near  Hebron,  by 
the  people  of  Palestine.  Close  by  the  “Virgin’s  Tree”  is  the 
“ Fountain  of  the  Sun,”  which  doubtless  suj^plied  the  Temple 
of  the  Sun  with  fresh  water.  It  is  said  to  be  the  only  living 
spring  in  Egypt. 

Heliopolis  is  marked  by  a lone  obelisk  standing  in  its 
strength  through  the  passing  ages.  A few  ridges  and  eleva- 
tions, which  are  remains  of  the  ancient  walls,  add  a solitude 
to  this  once  renowned  jdace.  Its  old  name,  “Ei-Re,^’  means 
the  “Abode  of  the  Sun,”  and  here  this  lone  obelisk  stood 
thousands  of  years  ago,  guarding  the  entrance  to  the  splendid 
Temple  of  the  Sun,  which  was  one  of  tlie  great  features  of  the 
ancient  city.  The  Coptic  and  Scripture  writings  call  the  city 
“On.”  It  never  was  a large  city,  but  was  more  noted  for  its 
intellectual  and  religious  character  than  for  anything  else.  In 
early  times,  even  from  tlie  remotest  histoiy,  it  was  the  site  of 
the  schools  of  learning,  long  before  Alexandrian  days.  Some 
fragments  of  marble  are  scattered  h(*re  and  there.  Strabo  saw 
this  a wasted  city.  It  is  not  improbable  that  hero  Moses,  who, 
Stephen  tells  us,  “ was  learned  in  all  the  wisdom  of  the  Egypt- 
ians ” (Acts  vii.  22),  studieil  the  mysterious  systems  of  thought 
and  religion  which  have  scarcely  left  a trace  of  their  being  or 
character  to  the  world.  Plato  was  a student  here  long  before 
the  Christian  era.  The  Temple  of  the  Sun,  which  stood  here, 
must  have  been  possessed  of  great  magnificence  and  splendor. 
Pleavy  walls  once  stood  around  an  inclosure,  three  miles  in 
circumference,  at  one  end  of  which  stood  the  Temj^le  of  the 
Sun,  on  an  eminence.  The  Nile  valley  is  constantlj"  being 
filled  up,  until  now  the  obelisk  seems  to  stand  in  a low  place, 
and  the  ancient  city  and  the  ruins  of  the  walls  doubtless  lie 
covered  by  the  sand.  Sphinxes  and  obelisks  once  adorned  a 
beautiful  court  which  led  to  the  great  entrance  to  the  temple. 
The  ancient  name  for  these  Egyptian  obelisks  has  been  lost. 


OBELISK  OF  EGYPT. 


623 


though  the  Greeks  called  them  obelisks,  or  needles.  The  two 
shipped  to  New  York  and  London  have  each  been  called  “Cleo- 
patra's Xeedh‘,”  but  for  what  reason  I can  not  tell,  for  she  had 
nothing  to  do  witli  their  erection.  They  ante-date  her  time 
two  thousand  years. 

Two  great  obelisks  stood  in  the  eastern  front,  guarding  and 
ornamenting  the  royal  entrance  to  the  Temple  of  the  Sun.  One 
has  been  removed  to  Paris,  while  the  other  still  remains,  the 
lone  sentinel  of  the  passing  ages.  This  one  is  of  red  granite. 
The  sides  of  this  great  monolithic  square  column  measure  at 
the  bottom  six  feet  and  one  inch  on  the  north  and  south 
and  six  feet  and  three  inches  on  the  east  and  west.  It 
stands  upon  a large  pedestal  now  covered  with  earth.  The 
whole  is  sixty-four  feet  and  four  inches  high  above  ground, 

or  sixt}’-eight  feet  and 
four  inches  above  the 
pedestal.  One  has  a 
feeling  of  solemnity 
and  reverence  as  he 
gazes  upon  the  proud 
form  of  this  monarch 
of  stone.  It  is  the  old- 
est in  all  Egypt.  It  was 
erected  by  Osirtasen  L, 
the  second  king  of  the 
twelfth  dynasty,  whose 
name  it  still  bears  in 
simple  inscriptions 
which  run  down  each 
of  its  .sides.  These 
characters  are  as  splen- 
didly preserved  as  if 
they  had  been  chiseled 
there  only  a century 
ago.  Yet  it  was  erected  over  two  thousand  and  eighty  years 
before  the  birth  of  Christ..  When  Moses  was  here,  the  “ son 
of  Pharaoh’s  daughter,”  being  educated  in  the  “ wisdom  of 


624 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


the  Egyptians,”  it  had  already  been  standing  more  than  half 
a thousand  years.  For  more  than  three  gray  centuries  before 
Joseph,  the  Hebrew  slave,  “ Ruler  of  all  Egypt,”  here  married 
Asenath,  the  daughter  of  Potipherah,  the  priest  in  the  Sun 
Temple  (Genesis  xli.  45),  it  had  witnessed  the  passing  throngs 
which  came  to,  and  went  from,  the  worship  of  the  Sun-god. 
Still  lifting  its  form  bare  to  the  glare  of  tlie  sun  through 
the  slow  changing  seasotis  year  after  year,  and  century  follow- 
ing century,  for  almost  four  thousand  years,  it  has  defied  all 
change  and  even  the  grinding  teeth  of  Time,  and  is  here  to 
throAv  its  slender  shadow  over  us  as  it  did  on  Joseph,  the  ex- 
cellent son  of  Jacob,  when  God  raised  him  to  honor  in  a 
foreign  land.  .All  about  it  has  faded  away,  and  the  idol- 
temide  has  fallen  into  ruins,  the  foundations  of  which  lie 
buried  in  the  sandy  soil.  The  heroes  of  those  days  have 
faded  out  of  history,  save  those  whom  God  made  mighty,  and 
the  few  whose  names  were  carved  in  the  eternal  rocks.  The 
people,  the  civilization,  the  religion,  the  learning  of  these 
ages  agone  have  faded  from  the  face  of  the  earth.  It  is  the 
tombstone  of  Heliopolis,  and  of  four  thousand  years.  Good- 
by,  imperishable  monarch  of  stone.  May  the  coming  ages  be 
as  kind  and  gentle  to  you  as  the  past  have  been. 

The  garden  of  Mataseek,  close  by  the  site  of  On,  was  once 
owned  by  Cleopatra,  and  was  the  place  where  then  grew  the 
far-famed  balsam  which  she  had  brought  from  Judea.  This 
was  the  “ Balm  of  Gilead  ” spoken  of  in  the  Bible.  Long  ago 
it  has  been  removed  to  Mecca,  Arabia.  Abundance  of  cotton 
is  now  grown  luxuriantly  in  the  fields  and  gardens. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Visit  to  Sakkarab  — Donkey-Riding  — Sad  Sight  — Women  Mourning  — 
Ancient  Mempliis — Statue  of  Rameses — Groves  of  Palms — Burial 
Places  — Serapeum  — Tombs  of  tbe  Sacred  Bulls — Tomb  of  Tib  — 
Crossing  tbe  Nile  — Moses  in  tbe  Rushes. 


XE  day  was  devoted  to  a trip  to  Sakkarah.  Does  the 
I’eader  ask  how  we  traveled  — whether  by  rail,  or  on 
foot,  or  by  donkey?  Well,  we  used  all  the.se  means. 
rOf  course  the  donkey  is  the  ever-present  friend,  and,  with 
a driver,  the  reliable  traveling  companion  of  Egypt.  I 
shall  never  forget  the  sight  which  met  our  eyes  at  Cairo 
the  evening  of  our  arrival.  There  seemed  to  be  thousands  of 
donkeys.  They  are  of  all  sizes  and  colors.  Each  one  has  a 
driver,  who  calls  out  “Rose  Neal,”  or  “Yankee  Doodle,”  or 
“ Good  Donkey,”  and  motions  and  pulls  at  you  to  get  on  his 
donkey  and  ride. 

We  had  been  in  Cairo  only  a part  of  a day  when  all  resolved 
to  have  a ride  on  the  donkeys.  Accordingly  a company  of 
the  kindly  animals,  with  their  Arab  drivers,  were  ordered  to 
our  hotel.  Cairo,  with  all  its  points  of  interest,  was  to  be 
visited  on  donkey-back.  Thirteen  of  us  were  soon  duly 
mounted.  No  attention  was  paid  to  getting  a large  beast  for 
a large  man.  It  was  just  as  likely  to  be  otherwise  as  not. 
Some  of  these  animals  are  very  small.  Mr.  Miller  took  the 
pains  to  measure  the  one  he  rode  the  day  of  our  visit  to  Mem- 
phis— extreme  length,  fifty-eight  inches;  height,  thirty-ninp 
inches;  ears  from  tip  to  tip,  twenty-one  inches;  name,  “Yan- 
kee Doodle.”  Hon.  Mr.  Sedgwick  was  interested  enough 
in  his  to  measure  its  ears.  From  tip  to  tip  they  were  thirty- 
two  inches.  These  donkeys  are  well- conditioned  and  well 
40  625 


626 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


kept.  Indeed  they  are  the  delight  of  their  Arab  owners. 
They  are  usu;dly  well  clipped,  with  fancy  cuttings  about  their 
legs.  They  are  very  gentle,  and  only  kick  now  and  then  when 
the  driver  whacks  them  too  soundly.  Our  illustration  is  a 
perfect  picture  of  an  Egyptian  donkey. 

It  is  a siglit,  and  an  ex})erience  not  soon  to  be  forgotten, 
when  one  joins  a company  of  a dozen,  all  mounted  on  these 
donkeys,  and  starts  to  travel  through  a great  city  like  Cairo. 
Each  donkey  lias  a driver.  These  drivers,  as  well  as  the 
donkeys,  seem  to  have  an  appreeiation  of  the  fact  that  they 


EGYPTIAN  DONKEY. 


have  Americans,  raw  as  to  donkey  rifling,  in  hand,  and  wish 
to  make  the  best  of  it ; so  they  make  the  be.st  of  it  out  of  the 
rider.  The  saddle  sets  one  up  half  a foot  above  the  back  of 
the  creature;  the  stirrup  - straps  are  not  fastened  to  the  saddle 
but  swing  over  it,  so  that  one  stirrup  lengthens  as  the  other 
shortens — just  as  you  want  it.  I could  not  see  the  use  of  this 
until  in  getting  off  several  times  it  came  to  me  that  it  was  a 
kindly  arrangement  to  assi.st  one  in  dismounting.  Putting 
the  weight  of  the  body  upon  the  left  stirrup  to  alight,  about 
the  time  one  is  half  off  the  creature  the  strap  slips  and  lets 


DONKEY-RIDING. 


627 


the  rider  fall  to  the  ground.  To  prevent  such  an  occurrence 
the  driver  must  he  on  hand.  Then  he  continues  to  attend  to 
the  call  for  backshish.  In  riding,  the  only  thing  to  be  done  is 
to  remain  on.  The  driver  does  the  rest.  One  can  kick  if  he 
desires.  'He  has  a rein  from  the  bridle.  lie  can  pull  it 
squarely  or  at  either  side,  or  do  whatever  interests  him  most. 
It  will  do  neither  good  nor  evil.  The  donkey  goes  where  he 
pleases,  or  where  the  driver  pushes,  drives,  or  tickles  him  to 
make  him  go.  Our  company  went  like  a drove  of  sheep,  all 
through  each  other.  Sometimc-s  one  was  behind,  then  in  the 
middle,  then  in  front.  You  have  nothing  to  do  with  that  mat- 
ter. When  the  trot  became  gentle  and  one  fancied  a })leasant 
gait,  suddenly  a “ ■whack  ” came  from  the  driver  on  the  poor 
donkey’s  back,  which  was  often  reciprocated  with  a tremen- 
dous kick  "which  made  the  rider  fear  that  the  man  or  himself 
was  in  danger.  Thus  we  often  went  from  place  to  place.  On 
a journey  of  this  kind  through  Cairo,  wlren  going  at  full 
speed  down  one  of  the  great  streets,  the  objects  of  gazing  from 
every  quarter,  suddenly  the  donkey  of  one  of  our  company 
upset  forward,  or  in  other  words,  turned  a complete  summer- 
sault, and  yet,  strange  to  say,  the  rider  was  not  injured.  As 
to  the  injuries  of  the  other  gentleman,  no  inquiry  was  made, 
and  no  medical  aid  ■was  tendered. 

It  was  early  morning  when  our  company  started  to  visit 
the  site  of  ancient  Memphis  and  other  places,  some  thirty 
miles  southward,  up  the  Nile.  Between  two  and  three  miles 
were  to  be  made  on  donkeys  before  reaching  the  dejrot.  On 
the  route  the  donkey  on  which  I rode  ran  against  a wall,  and  I 
escaped  without  serious  injury  to  the  right  leg  only  by  good 
fortune.  As  the  animal  stood  bearing  against  the  huge,  rough 
stone  wall,  I was  reminded  of  trouble  of  the  same  kind  an 
old  prophet  got  into  up  in  eastern  Palestine. 

Just  as  we  were  approaching  the  railway  station  an  old 
man,  who  was  coming  to^n^ard  the  city,  leading  a donkey  heav- 
ily loaded  with  vegetables  for  the  market,  was  run  over  by 
the  cars  just  before  our  eyes.  The  man  was  cut  entirely  into 
two  pieces,  and  he  lay  with  his  staff  tightly  grasped,  while 


628 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


his  donkey  was,  if  possible,  still  more  frightfully  mangled. 
!My  eyes  never  looked  upon  a sight  so  horrible.  Some  time 
elapsed  before  the  bod}’’  was  removed.  News  of  the  accident 
was  soon  carried  to  the  neighboring  village  where  possibly  the 
old  man  lived,  or  through  which  he  had  been  seen  to  pass. 
All  the  people  came  out.  A canal  prevented  their  approach- 
ing nearer  than  within  a few  hundred  feet  of  the  dead  man. 
Hundreds  of  women  ran  up  and  down  the  canal  throwing 
their  arms  and  entire  bodies  about  in  the  wildest  manner. 
The  hair  of  their  heads  was  disheveled,  and  with  their  arms 
and  hands  they  smote  themselves  and  hallooed,  and  lamented, 
and  screamed,  and  mourned,  and  cried.  Such  wild,  inhuman 
yellings  and  expressions  of  grief  I never  could  have  imag- 
ined to  be  possible.  This  continued  to  increase  as  scores  and 
scores  were  added  to  the  comjiany,  until  the  dead  man  was 
removed. 

Our  donkeys  were  loadc'd  into  a car  and  we  took  our  places 
in  another,  and  our  train  drove  off  at  good  speed  toward  Bedra- 
shayn,  where  we  were  to  quit  the  cars  with  our  donkeys  and 
journey  to  Sakkarah.  This  was  a ride  of  over  seven  miles 
out  and  return.  Our  way  led  along  well-prepared  highways, 
amid  fields  whose  sandy  soil,  watered  and  cultivated,  produces 
abundantly.  A few  miles’  ride  from  the  railway  station 
brought  us  to  where  the  ruins  of  ancient  Memphis  are  to 
be  seen.  The  drifting  sands  from  the  desert  have  cov- 
ered up  the  moldering  pride,  ruins,  and  glory  of  the  first 
Egypt  known  in  history.  The  topography  of  the  lands,  with 
various  ruins,  indicates  only  faintly  what  may  some  day  be 
uncovered  here.  Memphis,  the  great  Egyptian  city  w’hich 
stood  here,  was  founded  by  Menes,  the  first  monarch  of  the 
first  dynasty  of  Egy^itian  rulers.  It  was  described  by  Diodo- 
rus as  being  nineteen  miles  around  it  and  six  miles  through 
it.  There  are  but  few  ruins  visible,  while  all  about  are  huge 
banks  of  debris  and  broken  fragments  of  towers  and  columns 
which  for  thousands  of  years  have  defied  the  pelting  sands. 
Perhaps  the  most  interesting  figure  here  is  a colossal  statue 
of  syenite  granite,  which  lies  prostrate,  with  its  face  half  cov- 


STATUE  OF  R AMESES. 


629 


ered  water  and  sand.  Its  feet  and  head  are  broken.  In 
full  order  it  must  have  stood  about  forty-eight  or  fifty  feet  in 
height,  and  with  equal  proportions.  Our  illustration  presents 
a good  view  of  this  statue.  It  was  partly  covered  with  sand 
and  water  when  we  saw  it. 


STATUE  OF  HAMESES,  AT  MEMPHIS. 

We  arc  reminded  tlrat  here  once  stood  the  splendid  Temple 
of  Apis,  and  that  here  the  worship  of  Apis,  the  bull-god  of 
the  ancient  Egyptians,  who  was  believed  to  be  the  embodi- 
ment or  symbol  of  Osiris,  the  god  of  the  Nile,  was  conducted 
with  splendid  pomp.  It  was  probably  as  early  as  under 
the  second  dynasty  of  Egyj)t  that  this  Apis  or  sacred  bull- 
worsliip  Avas  introduced.  It  is  believed  that  Osiris,  the  great 
Egyptian  god,  was  incarnated  and  manifested  in  the  shape  of 
a bull.  Here  he  had  a splendid  temjde.  He  must  be  of  black- 
colored  hide,  with  a v/hite  spot  triangular  in  shape  in  the  fore- 
head, and  the  hair  turned  in  the  figure  of  an  eagle  on  the 
back.  No  bull -god  Avas  allowed  to  liA^e  over  tAventy-five 
years.  He  Avas  at  that  age  put  to  death  and  concealed  in  a 
great  well.  Dying  before  th;;t  age,  he  was  buried  in  great 
pomp  in  the  Serapeum.  This  burial  was  attended  with  a great 
bacchanalian  feast.  Search  was  then  made  for  another  bull, 
and  Avhen  a calf  Avas  found  he  Avas  kej)!  forty  days  at  Nilopo- 
lis,  according  to  Diodorus,  and  then  taken  by  A^essel  to  Mem- 
phis, Avhere  he  was  kept  forty  days  attended  alone  by  naked 


EGYPT— LA2^D  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


G.O 


Avonien.  After  that,  he  was  enshrined  a god.  His  worship  was 
attended  with  great  feasts  and  revelry.  I could  hardly  realize 
that  I was  upon  the  very  soil  where  men  enacted  these  strange 
scenes  of  worship  thousands  of  years  ago.  That  the  golden 
calf  made  by  Aaron  in  the  wilderness,  and  those  of  Jeroboam, 
set  up  at  Bethel  and  Dan,  were  the  outgrowdhs  of  this  strange 
idolatry,  there  is  much  reason  to  believe.  C’an  these  things 
be?  Is  history  not  at  fault ? Are  not  these  inscriptions  upon 
monuments  and  upon  the  ancient  mummies  delusions?  Ver- 
ily, this  is  a land  of  realities,  and  these  are  the  remains  of 
decayed  ages.  This  Egypt  is  of  itself  a world  of  wonders. 
Not  only  have  these  sheltering  sands  preserved  ruins  of  cities 
and  temples ; but  the  very  burial-place  of  these  sacred  bulls 
was  a few  years  ago  discovered  by  Mr.  Mariette,  and  Ave  must 
hasten  on  to  see  it. 

Our  road  over  Sakkarah  leads  us  through  great  native 
groves  of  palms  which  e.xtend  for  many  miles  along  the  banks 
of  the  Nile.  Many  of  them  are  much  over  a foot  in  diameter 
in  the  trunk,  and  are  very  tall  and  straight.  Seen  from  a 
distance,  they  remind  one  of  the  tall  pine-groves  of  America. 
A beautiful  cluster  of  leaves  and  branches  and  dates  adorns 
the  top  of  these  trees. 

This  great  necropolis,  or  burial-place  of  Memphis,  was  almost 
five  miles  long,  and  was  the  oldest  in  all  Egypt.  On  this 
plateau  of  Sakkarah  there  are  no  less  than  eleven  pyra- 
mids. I have  not  space  to  take  the  reader  to  many  of  them, 
nor  would  it  be  profitable  to  do  so.  The  largest  one,  Ko- 
Komeh,  belongs  probably  to  the  first  dynasty,  and  dates  back 
about  two  thousand,  seven  hundred  years  before  Christ.  It  is 
one  hundred  and  ninety  feet  high,  and  three  hundred  and 
fifty -one  by  three  hundred  and  ninety-three  feet  in  size  at 
the  base.  Some  of  the  pyramids  are  quite  small.  They  pre- 
sent a marvelously  strange  sight  to  the  eye  as  one  remembers 
how  in  the  long  past  ages  they  w'ere  reared  as  great  monu- 
mental tombs  to  proud  and  mighty  rulers  of  this  wonderful 
land.  What  countless  dead  were  laid  to  sleep  here  in  times 
long  past ! Many  of  these  tombs  southward  are  said  to  belong 


SERAPEUM. 


631 


to  the  eighteenth,  nineteentli,  ami  twentieth  dynasties,  and 
those  eastward  to  later  times. 

As  the  hot  sun  })oured  its  melting  rays  down  upon  us,  our 
donkeys  jogged  along,  impelled  by  the  pursuing  drivers,  until 
before  noon  we  had  reached  the  lone  house,  surrounded  by 
oceans  of  sand,  built  by  the  French  arclueologist.  1\I.  Mariette, 
a few  years  ago,  for  his  accommodation  during  his  explora- 
tions and  ('xcavations  here.  From  here,  with  candles  in  hand, 
we  vi.sited  the  Serapeum,  or  Ajus  Mausoleum,  where  the  sacred 
bulls  were  embalmed  and  buried  in  great  splendor.  This  is 
one  of  the  most  wonderful  remains  of  all  Egypt.  For  ages 
it  was  unknown  until  discovered  in  1860  and  1861.  Wad- 
ing through  the  sand  we  soon  came  upon  the  ojiening,  which 
is  ten  or  twelve  feet  wide  and  pi’obably  thirty  feet  deep,  but 
now  largely  filled  with  sand.  Walking  down  the  passage  I 
found  myself  at  the  entrance  of  the  great  chambers  cut  in  the 
native  rock,  through  which  the  embalmed  bodies  of  the  an- 
cient bull-gods  had  been  borne  to  their  entombment  within, 
thousands  of  years  ago.  While  their  worship  was  conducted  at 
Memphis,  a splendid  temple  was  erected  upon  this  spot  cover- 
ing the  Serapeum,  in  which  these  gods  were  honored  and 
worshiped  after  they  were  buried  here.  There  are  various  parts 
to  this  wonderful  burying-place.  The  first  contained  the  bulls 
from  the  time  of  Amenophis  III.,  of  the  eighteenth  dynasty, 
down  to  the  twentieth ; the  second  part,  the  bulls  from  She- 
sbauk,  the  first  king  of  the  twenty-second  dynasty,  to  Tir- 
haka,  the  last  of  tbe  twenty- fifth  dynasty;  the  third  part, 
the  bulls  from  Psammilichus,  the  beginning  of  the  twenty- 
sixth  dynasty,  B.  C.  650,  down  to  the  Ptolemies,  only  sixty  years 
before  the  Christian  era.  These  great  excavations  through 
the  solid  rock,  making  one  vast  chamber,  of  various  parts, 
are  about  twelve  feet  wide  and  the  same  in  height,  in  all 
more  than  one  thousand  two  hundred  feet  long.  On  either 
side  of  these  chambers  are  ante-chambers,  or  niches,  twelve 
feet  wide  and  fifteen  feet  deep,  for  the  tombs  of  the  bulls, — 
each  one  having  a chamber  or  room  to  himself.  Each  cham- 
ber contains  a great  sarcophagus,  the  receptacle,  or  cofiBn, 


632 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


of  a sacred  bull.  There  are  twenty-four  of  these  sarcophagi, 
made  of  red  granite.  Measuring  one,  I found  it  thirteen  feet 
long,  seven  feet  six  inches  wide,  and  eleven  feet  high.  Each 
is  covered  with  a heavy  lid  of  solid  stone,  made  to  fit  tightly 
upon  the  sarcophagus.  The  thickness  of  the  sides  and  bot- 
tom and  lid,  varies,  hut  is  from  four  inches  upward,  to  a foot. 
The  sarcophagi  are  dres.sed,  and  polished  smooth.  Some  of 
the  lids  had  been  moved,  and  I clambered  into  a few  of  these 
huge  bull-colfins.  The  lids  were  found,  at  the  discovery,  slid- 
den  aside  and  the  chambers  empty.  For  a good  while  I walked 
up  and  down  exploring  these  awful  vaults,  until  my  candle 
was  well-nigh  consumed.  There  is  notliing  like  this  place  in 
all  the  wide,  wide  world.  How  such  an  art  as  Egypt  cherished 
and  boasted  of  in  those  days,  could  obtain  under  a religion 
wliich  had  a bull  for  one  of  its  gods,  is  a wonder  to  the  ages. 

A few  hundred  yards  distant  we  examined  the  tomb  of  Tib, 
one  of  the  most  sidendid  specimens  of  ancient  Egyptian 
tombs.  A description  in  detail  is  l.)eyond  the  purpose  of  these 
jrages.  The  covering  and  other  parts  of  the  court  have  disap- 
peared. Still,  the  walls,  columns,  and  carvings  are  splendid  to 
look  upon.  The  three  chambers  leading  one  after  another  to- 
ward the  sepulchral  chamber  contain  the  best  preserved  spec- 
imens of  ancient  Egyptian  art.  The  priest,  whose  tomb  this 
is,  lived  under  the  fifth  dynasty,  B.  C.  2200  years,  as  learned 
from  inscrii>tions  found  here.  The  walls  of  each  of  the  cham- 
ber.s,  which  are  solid  rock,  are  covered  with  carvings.  Hiero- 
glyphics, all  manner  of  art,  industry,  worship,  and  indeed  all 
kinds  of  employment  are  represented  in  these  reliefs — slay- 
ing of  a bull,  funeral  rites,  hunters,  garden  scenes,  boats  and 
crews,  battle  with  a hippopotamu.s,  cows  crossing  fords,  cattle 
grazing  in  meadows,  harvesting,  donkeys  laden  as  we  see  them 
here  on  every  hand,  carpenters,  and  artisans.  In  every  cham- 
ber there  is  the  figure  of  Tih,  who  looks  down  upon  all, 
while  singers  dance  and  play  about  him.  These  carvings  and 
reliefs,  though  delicate  and  fine,  are  as  sharp  and  well  pre- 
served as  if  wrought  a few  years  ago.  The  colorings  are  as  strik- 
ing and  clear  as  if  produced  yesterday.  How  can  it  be  that 


CROSSING  THE  NILE. 


633 


these  chambers  were  hewed  out  and  these  figures  carved  and 
these  paintings  produced  four  thousand  years  ago?  And  liere 
for  almost  two  thousand  years  they  have  lain  covered  by  the 
sand,  unknown  to  the  world  or  to  history.  Now  tliey  open 
up  from  their  long  sleep  of  silence,  and  with  their  own  in- 
scriptions and  records  silently  tell  their  awful  history  of  years. 

We  had  our  lunch,  and  coaked  an  Arab  to  show'  us,  close  by 
the  house  of  Mariette,  a splendid  sarcophagus  of  stone  with  a 
marvelous  Egyj)tian  figure  on  the  lid,  which  he  uncovered  by 
removing  the  sand,  and  then  covered  it  again  nicely,  wdiile  we 
mounted  our  donkeys  and  rode  away.  On  our  return,  another 
splendid  view  of  tlie  ancient  ruins  of  Memphis  and  the  palm- 
groves  was  enjoyed.  We  rode  about  six  or  seven  miles  to  the 
Nile.  Here  almost  an  hour  was  consumed  w bile  our  donkey- 


SCENE  ON  THE  NILE. 

drivers  tried  to  get  our  donkeys  to  w'alk  a plank  from  the  bank 
to  a kind  of  flat-boat,  on  which  it  was  proposed  to  cross  the 
Nile  to  the  east  side.  They  succeeded  at  last  in  getting  one 
of  the  donkeys  to  “hoard”  the  boat,  hut  tlie  remainder  refused 
stoutly  to  the  last.  There  seemed  to  he  hut  little  prospect  of 


634 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


our  reaching  the  city  that  night  at  that  slow  rate.  We  de- 
termined to  go  on  withovit  the  donkeys;  so,  discharging 
the  one  on  board  and  dismissing  them  all  Avith  the  drivers,  to 
get  to  Cairo  Avhen  and  as  best  they  could,  we  crossed  the  Nile 
on  the  boat  driven  by  one  large  sail,  and  being  landed  on  its 
sandy  banks  journeyed  on  foot  four  miles  under  the  broiling 
sun,  through  the  hot  sand  half-ankle  deep.  Among  all  the 
“AA'eary  marches”  of  our  journeyings,  this  jaunt  on  foot 
through  these  Egyptian  sands  Avas  the  most  fatiguing.  Surely 
an  artist  could  desire  no  more  dramatic  scene  than  that  pre- 
sented by  our  company  as  its  members,  straggling  along  for  a 
distance  of  half  a mile  apart,  Avaded  through  these  burning 
sands.  We  had  a feAV  minutes  at  HelaAvin,  a kind  of  summer 
resort  for  the  people  of  Cairo.  It  is  the  beginning  of  a very 
beautiful  toAvn.  We  had  enjoyed  a very  splendid  vieAV  of  the 
Nile.  Beautiful  sail-vessels,  not  large,  but  very  beautiful  in 
arrangement  and  decoration,  Avith  noAv  and  then  a little 
jdeasure  steamboat,  and  great  quantities  of  small  sail-boats, 
Avere  seen  jdying  in  this  historic  river.  The  Nile  is  always  to 
he  looked  upon  Avitli  interest.  SomeAvhere  along  these  sandy 
shores,  amid  the  rushes,  Jochehed  concealed  her  infant  boy, 
Moses,  in  a basket  of  Avattled  rushes  cemented  Avith  pitch,  a 
kind  of  coffin  for  the  little  one  now  dead  to  her,  but  brought 
again,  living,  to  her  bosom  l)y  Pliaraoh's  daugliter,  and  Miriam. 

At  IlelaAvin  Ave  took  the  train  Avhich  bore  us  in  full  sight  of 
the  great  stone-quarries  from  Avhich  the  materials  for  the  pyra- 
mids Avere  probably  secured.  A feAV  piasters  at  the  depot  for 
a donkey  and  a driver,  brought  the  Avriter  Aveary  and  sore  to 
the  'hotel,  Avhere  a tired  and  sluggish  hand  calling  for  rest 
pushed  the  pen  through  these  lines. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


Museum  of  Cairo — Old  Statue  — Mummies — Whirling  Dervishes — Nil- 
ometer — River  Nile  — Overflowing  of  the  Nile — Camp-fires  of  Israel. 

HE  museum  of  Cairo,  unlike  those  of  European  cities, 
has  no  general  collection  of  natural,  scientific  or  lit- 
erary  curiosities,  or  works  of  art.  It  is  small  and 
without  orderly  arrangement;  yet  its  few  treasures  are 
Y the  most  wonderful  of  the  world.  We  w'ere  most  deeply 
interested  here,  but  can  not  give  a description  of  the  treas- 
ures of  antiquity  it  contains.  One  of  the  most  remarkably  pre- 
served statues  of  the  world  is  here, — that  representing,  no 
doubt,  an  ancient  chief.  It  is  two  and  a half  feet  high,  of  per- 
ect  form,  carved  of  solid  wood,  with  eyes  of  bronze  and  pupils 
of  crystal.  It  was  discovered  at  Sakkarah,  and  is  four  thousand 
years  old.  Here,  also,  is  a statue  of  Cephren,  the  builder  of 
the  second  pyramid,  which  stands  just  north-west  of  Cheops. 
Here,  too,  are  splendid  sarcophagi  of  great  antiquity.  I was 
especially  interested  in  looking  upon  the  collection  of  ancient 
mummies  recently  discovered  near  Karnak,  one  of  which  is 
believed  to  be  the  “Pharaoh  w'hich  knew  not  Joseph.’’ 

We  made  a visit  to  the  Whirling  Dervishes,  and  witnessed 
the  silliest  performance  enacted  on  earth  in  the  name  of 
religion.  The  dervishes  are  a sect  of  religionists,  among  the 
Mohammedans,  who  devote  themselves  entirely  to  religion, 
living  upon  what  they  can  secure  from  the  people  in  their 
various  methods.  They  have  a large  room  in  which  their 
worship,  if  such  it  may  be  called,  is  conducted.  A few  per- 
sons are  seated  on  an  elevated  place  on  a kind  of  balcony, 
making  screeching  music,  while  an  old  priest,  or  chief  among 

635 


636 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


them,  has  charge  of  the  affair.  There  are  as  many  as  can  per- 
form well  in  the  large  circular  room  surrounded  with  a railing. 
They  are  dressed  in  large  skirts  like  the  dress  of  a woman, 
and  wear  a tall,  stove-pipe-like  hat,  tapering  smaller  at  the 
top,  made  of  gray  or  white  material.  For  twenty-five  min- 
utes they  whirl  around  on  their  toes  and  bare  feet,  with  their 
arms  extended  and  their  hands  elevated 
about  as  high  as  their  heads,  and  their 
heads  leaning  backward.  So  rapid  is 
their  fanatical  whirling  around  like  a 
topy  that  their  long  skirts  stand  out  al- 
most straight.  This  Mohammedan  der- 
vish-worship is  j)erforined  every  Friday,! 
which  is  the  Mohammedan  Sabbath.! 

Although  but  two  rests  of  one  minute ' 
each  are  taken  during  twenty-five  min- 
utes’ whirl,  still  they  walked  out  of  the 
cirele  without  staggering.  They  live  in 
a miserable  old  convent  here  at  Cairo. 

They  are  evidently  a simple,  silly  peo- 
j)le.  In  Palestine  and  Syria  the  writer 
found  the  name  “dervish”  applied 
among  the  people  to  simple,  homeless, 
semi-idiotic  persons.  While  their  wor- 
ship is  less  fanatical  than  the  perform- 
ances in  the  eelebration  of  the  death  of 
Hassan  mentioned  in  a former  chapter, 
it  is  no  le.ss  silly.  There  are  also  what 
are  called  the  “Howling  Dervishes,” 
whose  performance,  at  another  place  on  Egyptian  mummy. 
the  same  day,  is  accompanied  with  an  ugly  noise.  Our  illus- 
tration, on  the  opposite  page,  is  a fine  presentation  of  the 
Whirling  Dervishes  as  the  writer  saw  them. 

The  Kilometer,  on  the  island  of  Rhoda,  close  to  Cairo, 
though  a simple  structure,  possesses  con^derable  interest 
to  the  visitor.  It  is  an  arrangement  for  the  measuring  of 
the  rise  and  fall  of  the  Nile.  It  consists  of  a well,  about 


NlLOMETEll. 


687 


eighteen  or  twenty  feet  square,  with  a graduation  pillar  in 
the  center,  with  measures  marked  ni>on  it,  divided  into  seven- 
teen cubits.  These  are  about  twenty-one  and  seven  sixteenth 
inches.  The  ten  u]>{)ermost  are  dividisl  into  twenty-four  dig- 
its. This  building  is  approached  through  a beautiful  garden. 
As  we  were  desiring  to  enter  the  garden,  the  keeper,  dressed 


WHIRLING  DERVISHES. 


in  flowing  robes,  approached  and  walked  before  us  with  stately 
tread.  I noticed  that  he  had  three  or  four  sticks  of  wood 
about  an  inch  square,  and  probably  a foot  or  more  in  length, 
which  were  fastened  together  with  a string  and  swung  over 
his  shoulder.  When  he  approached  the  closed  gate,  I learned 


638 


EGYPT  — LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


that  these  pieces  of  ■wood  were  so  many  keys  for  locking  the 
gates  of  which  he  had  charge.  He  inserted  his  liand  in  an 
opening  just  large  enough  to  admit  the  hand,  and  using  one 
of  the  sticks  which  had  been  taken  from  his  shoulder,  pro- 
ceeded to  open  the  bolt.  The  stick,  or  key,  had  several  small 
pegs  near  to  the  end,  which  precisely  fitted  into  holes  in  por- 
tions of  the  lock.  Applying  these  pegs  to  the  holes  in  the 
blocks  of  the  lock  and  pyilling,  a number  of  other  pegs  were 
slipped  and  the  bolt  was  thus  loosened  and  was  soon  drawn 
back  by  the  hand,  the  door  tlirown  open,  and  we  admitted  to 
the  garden.  There  is  evident  allusion  to  this  kind  of  a lock 
in  the  passage,  “My  beloved  put  in  his  hand  by  the  hole  of 
the  door.’’  (Solomon’s  Song  v.  4.)  To  tlie  same  manner  of 
carrying  these  keys,  a poetic  allusion  is  made  by  tlie  jirojihet 
when  he  says,  “ And  the  key  of  the  house  of  David  will  I lay 
upon  his  shoulder;  so  he  shall  open  and  none  shall  shut.” 
(Isaiah  xxii.  ’i'i.)  When  the  door  was  open  the  keeper  closed 
and  locked  it,  and  replaced  the  key  on  his  shoulder.  When 
we  entered  the  garden  we  found  it  abundant  in  oranges,  man- 
darins, grapes,  etc.  We  purchased  some  of  each  and  found 
them  delicious. 

The  building  surrounding  the  Nilometer  is  surmounted 
with  a dome,  and  the  walls  are  covered  with  j^assages  from  the 
Koran.  It  was  erected  in  A.  D.  848,  though  these  Nilometers 
probably  existed  in  various  towns  in  the  time  of  the  Pharaohs. 
They  were  the  means  of  determining  the  amount  of  water  put 
upon  the  lands,  for  which  the  people  were  taxed.  Now  they 
are  used  to  ascertain  the  rise  of  the  river.  By  means  of  men 
appointed  for  that  purpose,  the  news  is  carried  throughout  the 
entire  country,  .‘^o  that  the  people  know  how  to  open  and 
close  the  canals,  and  how  far  to  prepare  for  the  overflow  of 
the  land.  The  ri.se  of  the  Nile  at  Cairo  is  twenty-six  feet. 

While  the  Nile  does  not  have  to  us  the  sacred  association 
of  the  Jordan,  or  the  mystery  of  the  Dead  Sea,  yet  it  is  not 
less  interesting  to  the  traveler;  indeed,  Egypt  were  a vast 
Sahara  without  it.  Nothing  would  grow  here,  and  no  being 
could  live  on  its  soil  except  for  the  Nile.  It  is  no  wonder  that 


OVERFLOWING  OF  TIIF  NILE. 


639 


the  idolatrous  Egyptians  worship  it.  Its  soft  waters  contain 
niiiititudcs  of  fishes,  and  when  filtered  by  the  sand  and  con- 
veyed in  fresh-water  canals,  furnish  supplies  for  all  Egypt.  Its 
annual  overfiow  irrigates  the  land,  and  the  alluvium  brought 
to  the  soil  by  the  same  overflow  of  the  Nile  enriches  it  from 
year  to  year,  and  from  century  to  century.  The  water  of  the 
Nile  has  been  analyzed  and  found  to  contain  ingredients  as 
follows:  Clay,  fort3^-eight ; carbonate  of  lime,  eighteen;  car- 

bon, nine;  water,  eleven;  oxide  of  iron,  six;  silica,  four;  car- 
l)onate  of  magnesia,  four.  This  varies  in  difierent  distances, 
when  more  or  less  land,  or  clay,  is  carried  by  the  cuiTent. 
Thus,  for  thousands  of  _v(>ars  the  Nile  has  s])read  out  its 
waters  over  all  the  land  to  almost  the  same  depth  each  year, 
varying  in  the  season  of  its  rising  only  a few  hours.  The  rise 
comes  almost  with  the  regularity  of  the  planetary  revolutions. 
The  bosom  of  the  river  is  covered  with  small  vessels  and 
boats,  and  its  banks  are  adorned  with  groves  of  palms.  At 
Cairo  the  rise  begins  about  the  twenty-fifth  of  .June,  and  con- 
tinues for  about  three  months.  The  last  of  Sejttember  and 
first  of  October  it  remains  at  a uniform  height  ten  or  twelve 
days,  and  then  gradually  subsides.  The  rise  of  the  water  is 
attributed  to  the  melting  of  the  snow  in  the  mountains  at  its 
head,  thousands  of  miles  away.  The  length  of  this  wonderful 
river  is  more  than  three  thousand  miles,  while  for  one  thou- 
Siind  five  hundred  miles  from  the  mouth  it  has  no  tributary, 
and  yet  performs  its  mission  of  life  amid  tbe  sandy  plains. 

Although  there  are  no  marshes  lying  along  the  Nile  now, 
surely  we  have  somewhere  looked  uiron  the  spot  where  Moses, 
the  great  lawgiver  of  the  Hebrews,  was  concealed  when  a 
Irab'e  by  his  loving  mother;  for  I have  scanned  these  mudd\' 
waters  and  sandy  banks  again  and  again  ever\uvhere. 

Wonderful  Nile  ! Wonderful  land  of  the  Pharaohs!  Won- 
derful land  of  .loseph  and  Moses!  Can  it  be  that  for  days 
and  days  I have  been  walking,  and  visiting  places  where 
they  once  lived  and  suffered  for  the  cause  of  God?  Was  it 
here  that  Pharaoh  in  his  pride  said  to  the  man  of  God,  “ Who 
is  the  Lord,  that  I should  obey  his  voice?”  “ I know  not  the 


640 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


Lord,  neither  will  I let  Israel  go.”  Was  it  not  here  that  the 
meek  hut  resolute  Hebrew  came  from  Midian  with  the  vision 
of  the  burning  bush  before  his  eyes,  and  standing  in  the  pres- 
ence of  Pharaoh,  exclaimed,  “Thus  saith  the  Lord  God  of  Is- 
rael, let  my  people  go  that  they  may  hold  a feast  unto  me  in 
the  wilderness.”  And  in  those  days  this  great  Nile,  with  all  the 
canals  and  water-tanks,  became  blood  when  xVaron  stretched 
his  rod  over  the  water;  and  for  a long  week  this  whole  land 
had  no  water,  but  blood.  i\Iore  wonderful  than  this  land  and 
more  marvelous  than  its  history  is  the  God  of  all  history,  and 
the  God  of  all  lands.  I have  here  been  filled  with  thoughts 
of  his  })Ower  and  grace.  Ilis  being  and  deeds  are  for  all  ages. 

The  obelisks  and  j)yramids  of  Egypt,  with  all  their  imper- 
ishable fame,  are  not  so  immortal  as  the  memory  of  God’s  love 
and  care  for  his  people,  his  displeasure  shown  his  enemies,  and 
their  dreadful  punishment.  Ilis  bosom  is  a pillow  of  love 
where  every  one  may  re.st  his  aching  head  and  be  still. 

The  testimony  of  the  hieroglyphics  and  monuments  of 
Egypt  is  a new  and  striking  corroboration  of  the  statements 
of  sacred  history  as  given  in  the  Bible.  Some  of  tlie  Egyptian 
tables  discovered  within  recent  years  present  hierogl3’ijhic  fig- 
ures reiwesenting  slaves  carrying  sacks  of  grain  to  royal  gran- 
aries, and  others  show  slaves  at  work  on  a brick-yard.  The 
best  Egyptologists,  with  great  plausibility,  assert  that  these 
slaves  show  the  Hebrew  h)nn  and  features,  and  that  they  rep- 
resent the  events  which  the  Bible  records.  The  entire  process 
of  brick-making  is  shown,  while  the  slaves  pass  under  the 
tyranny  of  task-masters.  It  is  confidently  believed  by  emi- 
nent and  learned  men  that  they  have  discovered  the  ash- 
beds  of  the  camp-fires  of  Israel  on  their  journey  from  Egypt  to 
Canaan.  In  these  mounds,  which  are  in  the  direct  route  of  Is- 
rael, the  stones  show  the  action  of  fire,  while  charcoal  and  other 
substances  indicating  fire  are  found  in  them.  These  hillocks 
are  in  large  numbers,  and  surrounded  b\’  vast  burial-grounds. 
Dean  Stanley  supposed  these  to  be  the  tombs  of  those  of  Israel 
who  were  cut  off’  by  the  plague.  Lieutenant  Conder  thinks  the 
hillocks  about  Gilgal  are  the  ash -heaps  of  Israel’s  camp-fires. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


Egyptian  People — Route  to  Alexandria — Fields — The  Delta  — Ancient  Al- 
exandria— Schools  of  Alexandria — Alexandrian  Libraries — Pom- 
pey’s  Pillar — Doom  of  Alexandria — Modern  City — Memories. 


Cairo  was  quite  long  enough.  It  is  scarcely 
possible  for  a traveler  here  to  do  more  than  see  the 
surface  of  things.  The  people  seem  to  have  hut  little 
interest  in  public  affairs,  flow  striking  the  contrast  with 
our  ov/n  country  in  this  regard!  The  masses  of  the  peo- 
J pie  appear  contented  in  their  humble  life.  There  are 
some  of  the  more  active  and  intelligent,  who  are  interested 
in  governmental  matters.  These  seem  to  look  with  suspicion 
upon  all  the  governments  of  the  world  except  the  United 
States.  They  have  a fear  that  any  and  all  the  eastern  govern- 
ments would  like  to  have  Egypt;  but  the  United  States  has 
territory  enough,  and  docs  not  want  their  country.  The 
Arabs  are  being  quietly  but  assiduously  taught  that  the  En- 
glish and  Europeans  are  enemies,  stealing  from  them  their 
wealth.  Our  company  was  treated  with  courtesy  by  all,  and 
yet  we  could  not  escape  the  consciousness  that  we  were  closely 
watched. 

It  was  three  o’clock  p.  m.,  December  5th,  and  the  sun  was 
sloping  behind  the  pyramids,  when  we  crowded  through  the 
throngs  of  donkeys  and  Arabs  along  the  streets,  and  down 
to  the  depot  to  take  the  train  for  Alexandria.  It  is  about 
one  hundred  and  fifty  miles  to  Alexandria,  and  a little 
over  five  hours’  ride  brought  us  to  this  far-famed  city.  Our 
course  lay  through  the  Delta,  a vast  level  expanse  of  sandy 
soil,  cut  with  canals  and  smaller  channels  for  the  watering  of 
« 641 


642 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


the  country.  Here  and  there  were  ])ersons  eini^loyed  in  dip- 
ping up  the  water  from  tlie  channels  and  pouring  it  into  those 
provided  to  water  liighcr  lands.  At  places  there  are  groves  of 
palms,  and  now  ami  tlien  towns  which  resemble  those  of  Eu- 
rope, while  others  look  like  groups  of  hay-stacks  without  or- 
derly arrangement,  with  small  openings  near  the  ground  of 
each  house  for  ingre.ss  and  egress.  In  many  fields  women  are 
emiAoyed  in  gathering  dhe  corn  and  sugar-cane,  while  cam- 
els are  loaded  with  these  products  to  be  conveyed  to  town. 
In  a few  places  we  saw  men  wading  in  water  quite  above 
their  knee.s,  gathering  corn,  the  whole  field  having  been  flooded 
in  order  to  get  the  water  upon  adjoining  lands.  The  corn  was 
picked  otf  the  stock  and  j)laced  in  a basket  which  floated  on 
the  water.  When  full  it  was  drawn  to  the  bank,  Avhere  it  was 
spread  out  to  dry.  The  women,  clad  in  their  single  gowns  of 
bluish  cotton  cloth,  attended  by  a group  of  children,  looked 
with  amazement  at  the  passing  train,  and  now  and  then  boys, 
men,  and  women  pic'ked  up  stalks,  bunches  of  grass  or  dirt,  and 
threw  them  at  us  in  great  fury.  Whether  they  were  mad,  or 
whether  they  were  amusing  them.^elves,  or  seeking  to  amuse 
us,  I can  not  tell.  There  was  probably  a commingled  feeling  of 
wonder  and  indignation.  It  was  a delightful  evening, — De- 
cember was  as  pleasant  as  l\Iay.  As  the  sun  sunk  down  be- 
yond the  sand-hills,  the  paler  moon  showed  its  smiling  face 
far  away  to  our  right,  attended  with  here  and  there  a star. 
Soon  we  noticed  a strange  shadow  thrusting  itself  over  the 
northern  edge  of  the  moon.  The  phenomenon  was  presently 
discovered  to  be  almost  a total  eclip.^e  of  that  nocturnal  orb. 
Seen  in  this  clear,  transparent  atmo.«:phere,  it  was  the  most 
beautiful  pageant  I ever  saw  the  “pale  empress  of  the  night” 
offer  as  an  entertainment.  When  we  were  satisfied  with  this 
feast  of  the  eyes,  a table  de  hole  dinner  at  the  Hotel  Abbott 
furnished  a season  of  needed  pleasure.  The  smallest  possible 
breakfast,  a cold  lunch  at  noon,  and  dinner  at  nine  o’clock 
p.  M.,  are  stimulating  to  the  appetite. 

Had  xVlexandria  those  representative  ruins  proportionate 
with  her  renown  which  are  found  at  Baalbec,  Ephesus,  Rome, 


ANCIENT  ALEXANDRIA. 


643 


and  Athens,  then  we  should  have  a rare  delight  before  us. 
The  very  ruins  of  Alexandria  have  decayed,  and  like  Heliop- 
olis, one  solitary  inonuinent  of  the  past,  Poinpey's  Pillar,  alono 
rewards  the  toil  of  the  pilgrim  looking  for  anti(piitie^  here. 
Still,  we  can  not  lose,  amid  these  Parisian  streets  and  Euiiopean 
buildings,  the  history  of  this  most  illustrious  city.  Here, 
where  now  the  traders  and  merchantmen  of  southern  Europe 
set  up  their  stores  on  the  borders  of  ^lohammedanism,  and 
carry  forward  the  trade  of  northern  Africa,  once  the  most 
noted  scholars  of  the  world  assembled' to  learn  wisdom  which 
they  should  carry  to  their  own  distant  lands.  More  than 
three  centuries  before  .Joseph  and  Mary,  hearing  the  infant 
•Jesus,  the  spiritual  conqueror  of  the  world  and  of  all  ages, 
came  to  Egyj)t,  Alexander,  after  the  conquest  of  Syria  and 
Memphis,  came  here,  B.  C.  332,  and  founded  a city  Avhich  was 
destined  to  rank  only  second  to  any  in  the  ancient  world. 
Dinocrates,  the  Greek  architect  whose  fame  rested  upon  his 
rebuilding  the  Tenqde  of  Diana,  at  Ephesus,  was  employed 
as  its  constructer.  It  is  reputed  that  Ptolemy  brought  the 
body  of  the  youthful  conqueror  of  the  world,  Alexander,  from 
Babylon,  and  buried  it  in  this  illustrious  city. 

During  the  reign  of  the  early  Ptolemies  of  Egypt  this  city 
won  a fame  for  commerce  and  learning  which  has  survived 
the  past  ages.  Less  than  a century  before  Christ,  Alexandria 
became  tbe  prey  of  tbe  Romans,  and  , by  Augustus  was  made 
an  imperial  city.  It  was  indeed  a city  of  .splendor.  Before 
the  Christian  era,  and  in  the  early  times  of  Christianity,  Al- 
exandria had  .schools  of  literature  and  philo.sophy  which  the 
world  has  always  admired.  It  was  the  seat  of  a learning  which 
after  the  times  of  Aristotle  spread  into  Europe.  The  famous 
Alexandrian  library,  founded  by  Soter,  grew  until  it  is  said 
to  have  contained  no  less  than  four  hundred  thousand  vol- 
umes. Besides  this,  the  Serapeum  library  was  said  to  have 
contained  three  hundred  thousand  volumes,  including  two 
hundred  thousand  volumes  of  King  Pergamus,  presented  by 
Mark  Antony  to  Cleopatra.  With  the  destruction  of  the 
city  by  the  Moslems  in  A.  D.  640,  these  treasures  melted  out  in 


644 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


tmoke  and  flame.  Here  the  art  of  book-making  arose,  sixteen 
hundred  years  before  the  Christian  era;  and  here,  Ptolemy 
Epiphanes  having  forbidden  the  use  of  papyrus,'  the  use  of 
skins  of  animals  was  resorted  to,  which  to  this  day  continues 
known  among  us  as  parchment.  Alexandria  was  the  scene  of 
the  labors  of  Mark,  as  we  are  told  by  ecclesiastical  tradition, 
and  the  Copts  still  claim  him  as  their  founder  and  first  bishop. 
Here  were  the  schools  so  noted  in  the  early  ages  of  Christian- 
ity. Philosophy  and  Christianity  fought  hand  to  hand  con- 
flicts within  the  shelter' of  this  vast  harbor,  and  the  mighty 
Origen  here  laid  down  his  philo.sophies  with  which  he  in- 
tended to  combat  Christianity,  and  took  up  the  eternal  word 
of  God.  The  Bible  had  here  been  translated  from  the  Hebrew 
into  the  Greek,  and  the  Septuagint  was  now  given  to  the 
world.  Here  wrought  Origen,  Clement,  and  others  of  the 
Christian  fathers.  Christianity  flourished  here  amid  great 
learning,  when  yet  England  was  in  utter  barbarism.  Slowly 
the  light  has  traveled  westward  until  even  from  the  city 
where  the  light-house.  Pharos,  flashed  out  over  the  sea,  the 
light  of  Christian  learning  has  flashed  across  all  seas,  and  now 
its  electric  beams  play  over  all  waters  and  shine  on  all  lands. 

The  treasures  of  antiquity  at  Alexandria  are  few.  The 
obelisks  which  Cleopatra  once  brought  down  the  Nile  and 
erected  at  the  entrance  of  Caesar’s  Temple,  have  foolishly 
been  given  to  foreign  lands,  so  that  one  stands  on  the  banks 
of  the  Thames  below  the  Parliament  House,  and  the  other 
falls  under  curious  gaze  in  Central  Park,  New  Tork. 

Pompey’s  Pillar  is  the  lone  sentinel  of  Alexandrian  antiq- 
uity. It  stands  upon  an  elevation  a little  way  south  of  the 
city.  It  is  a round  monolithic  column  of  red  granite,  seventy- 
three  feet  high  and  twent3'-nine  feet  eight  inches  in  circum- 
ference. It  is  the  largest  monolithic  column  in  the  world,  and 
stands  upon  a broad  pedestal,  with  base  fifteen  feet  square,  and 
is  mounted  with  a capital  of  the  Corinthian  order,  nine  feet 
high.  The  entire  height  of  the  monument  is  ninety-eight 
feet  nine  inches.  It  was  long  supposed  to  have  been  built  by 
Pompey,  or  by  some  one  else  in  honor  of  him,  while  some 


POMPF.Y’S  PILLAR. 


645 


supposed  it  the  ■work  of  Vespasian,  and  others  attributed  it 
to  Alexander  Severus.  home  Greek  inscriptions  at  last  told 
the  story  of  its  origin,  and  now  it  is  known  to  have  been 

erected  by  Pub- 
lius, the  prefect 
of  Egypt,  in 
honor  of  Diocle- 
tian, Avhose  statue 
no  doubt  once 
stood  upon  it. 
The  shaft  is  beau- 
tiful in  its  form, 
and  about  it  in  the 
sand  are  traces 
of  sphinxes, 
pieces  of  statues, 
and  broken  col- 
umns. This  is  a 
lone  indication  of 
the  greatness  of 
this  renowned 
city.  What  scenes 
have  been  enacted 
here!  In  the 
third  century 
poMPEY's  piLLAH.  Caracalla  enacted 

here  one  of  the  most  horrible  massacres  of  the  ages,  to  avenge 
himself  of  some  petty  offenses.  But  after  this  time  the 
city  arose  again  to  he  considered  the  greatest  in  the  world. 
In  the  seventh  century  it  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Persians, 
A.  D.  616.  A quarter  of  a century  lat(;r  it  was  possessed  by 
the  Arabians  under  Amru.  Under  him  the  great  Alexandrian 
libraries  were  burned, — as  it  is  reported,  being  taken  for  fuel, 
at  the  baths,  of  which  it  was  said  there  were  four  thousand. 
After  this  the  Greeks  possessed  the  city  for  a time,  but  were 
soon  driven  away  by  the  Arabs. 

Modern  Alexandria  is  uy)on  a kind  of  peninsula,  but  close 


646 


EGYPT— LAM)  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


to  the  site  of  the  ancient  city,  and  extiniding  over  the  ancient 
site  in  part.  Portions  of  the  city  are  filthy,  and  fitted  only 
for  Arabs;  other  parts  are  beautiful  indeed,  comparing  favor- 
abl}’  with  the  best  European  cities.  In  the  center  of  the  city 
is  a fine  avenue,  or  boulevard,  called  after  ]\Iahomet  Ali,  and 
adorned  with  a bronze  statue  of  this  “father”  of  his  country. 
The  population  of  the  city  is  put  at  tw'o  hundred  thousand, 
almost  one  half  of  whom  are  foreigners.  The  harbor  at  Alex- 
andria is  one  of  the  most  heautiful  in  the  world,  being  nearly 
two  miles  wide  and  six  miles  long.  Since  our  visit  there  the 
larger  part  of  the  great  sipiare  in  the  center  of  the  city  was 
burned  by  the  allies  of  Arabi  P>ey,  tlie  insurrectionist. 

The  sensations  experienced  in  walking  about  Alexandria, 
are  not  to  b(>  described.  It  is  difficult,  as  one  looks  upon  the 
modern  city,  to  harmonize  tlie  mcmorii's  of  the  illustrious  past 
with  what  is  now  beheld.  The  famous  light -house.  Pharos, 
one  of  tlie  seven* wonders  of  the  world,  towering  five  hundred 
and  fifty  f'l'ct  into  the  heavens,  erected  by  Ptoleni}'  Philadel- 
jdius,  to  iierpetuate  his  name,  and  tlasli  the  light  a hundred 
miles  over  the  dark  sea,  has  left  no  trace  of  its  foundatioy. 
Kot  only  the  stucco  of  the  outside  whidi  contained  the  name 
of  Ptolemy,  but  the  marble  witliin,  in  which  the  architect 
shrewdly  inscribed  his  own  name,  Sostratus,  has  entirely 
jjassed  aAvay,  after  its  ages  of  wonder.  The  tomb  of  Alex- 
ander the  Great  is  somewhere  here,  but  lies  buried  and  un- 
known, beneath  the  sands.  Here  Peter,  the  apostle,  once 
labored,  and  Mark  suffered  martyrdom  for  the  cause  of  his 
crucified  Lord.  Here  the  eloipient  Apollos  was  born,  and 
here  he  passed  his  early  childhood,  among  scenes  which  have 
scarcely  left  a trace  save  in  dim  history.  Tombs,  and  walls 
of  ancient  buildings  are  beneath  the  washings  of  the  Nile. 

Turning  from  these  thoughts,  as  one  walks  the  streets  of 
Alexandria,  he  is  everywhere  greeted  with  the  evidences  of 
fanatical  iMahommedanism,  mingled  with  European  customs 
and  Mohammedan  dogs.  In  Constantinople,  in  Damascus,  in 
Shechem,  in  Jerusalem,  in  Hebron,  in  Cairo,  and  in  Alexan- 
dria there  are  these  ever-jiresent  c7or)f-matic  brindle  canes. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


Leaving  Alexandria  — Across  the  Mediterranean  — Triest  — Custom- 
House  Robbery  — Homeward  — In  London  — Oxford — Latimer  and 
Ridley — Acioss  the  Ocean  — At  Home  — The  New  World  — Good-by. 


Si  X the  evening  of  December  6th,  our  company  pressed 
through  the  custom-house  at  the  port  of  Alexandria, 
conducted  by  an  experienced  guide.  It  was  amusing 
’to  see  how  he  managed  the  departure.  One  of  the  offi- 
cers was  taken  on  the  boat  and  accompanied  us  out  into 
tlie  liarbor  where  the  steamer  was  in  waiting.  His  pres- 
ence secured  our  safe  passage  beyond  the  guards  who  were 
skipping  about  in  boats.  Our  guide  then  undertook  to  pay  the 
officer.  He  paid  him  and  talked  to  him,  and  paid  him  some 
more  and  then  tnlked  more,  and  then  good-naturedly  paid 
him  some  more  and  gave  him  an  indescribable  ]>ush  and  a 
kick  and  sent  him  out  of  our  presence.  Our  company  pur- 
chased a bushel  or  two  of  oranges  for  the  voyage,  just  because 
they  were  nice  and  cheai"),  and  at  four  o’clock  p.  m.  our  steamer, 
Austria,  surrounded  by  vessels  of  war  and  hundreds  of  sloops, 
sail-vessels,  steamers,  and  boats,  which  fdl  the  vast  harbor, 
pushed  off,  Avith  a jiilot  to  guide  us  beyond  the  rocks.  While 
a threatening  storm  rose  behind  us,  our  path  over  the  sea 
northward  and  Avestward  Avas  pursued  for  six  days  and  nights. 
One  day  Ave  caught  sight  of  the  island  of  Crete.  On  Thurs- 
day morning  the  coast-lands  of  clas.sic  Greece  Avere  in  sight, 
and  Friday  evening  Ave  lay  quarantined  at  Corfu,  Avhere  Ave 
remained  all  night ; but  none  Avere  allowed  to  land.  By  noon 
on  the  sixth  day  we  had  crossed  the  Mediterranean,  the 
Ionian,  and  Adriatic  seas,  and  were  in  the  harbor  on  the  coast 
of  Austria,  at  Triest.  At  Alexandria  it  was  balmy  summer. 

Here  Ave  shivered  from  intense  cold  ! 

647 


648 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


In  all  the  far  eastern  countries  I learned  more  and  more  to 
despise  custom-houses,  as  doubtless  does  every  American  trav- 
eler. It  is  not  the  strictness  of  their  regulations,  but  their  con- 
summate robbery  which  is  detested.  For  a few  francs  one  can 
buy  out  the  officers  and  take  any  amount  of  goods  through ; 
but  honesty  is  at  a sad  discount.  At  Triest  the  wdiole  affair 
was  a farce,  and  a game  of  robbery.  The  officers  broke  into 
our  valises  as  a set  of  hungry  hounds,  and  upset  their  con- 
tents in  every  manner.  Most  of  our  company  had  purchased 
and  picked  up  mementos  in  Palestine  and  Egypt  which  were  of 
no  commercial  value,  and  were  not  intended  for  merchandise. 
These  they  weighed  and  on  them  an  enormous  duty  w'as 
charged.  After  one  of  our  company  had  paid  duty,  amount- 
ing to  four  or  five  dollars  on  some  cigarettes,  they  were  taken 
from  him  by  another  official ; but  the  money  was  not  re- 
funded. This  introduction  to  Austria  did  not  produce  a 
favorable  impression  upon  his  mind  respecting  the  Austrian 
government,  though  Triest  is  a city  of  great  commercial  inter- 
est. For  myself,  however,  I had  no  reason  to  complain,  being 
allowed  to  pa.ss  without  paying  any  duty.  I had  in  my  valise 
a tin  can  of  water  whicli  I had  brought  from  the  Jordan.  The 
officer  thrust  his  hand  to  the  very  bottom  of  my  valise  and 
got  hold  of  this  canteen  of  water,  which  ho  no  doubt  under- 
stood to  be  whisky.  ^Myself  mistaking  the  package  for  some 
sections  of  olive  wood,  I explained  that  it  was  “olive  W'ood.” 
He  had  heard  it  rattle,  perhaps,  and  thought  he  had  a pint  of 
whisky,  and  so  he  persisted  in  removing  the  wrapping  from 
it.  When  I saw  what  it  was  that  he  had,  I told  him  it  was 
“ Jordan  wasser.”  The  old  man  held  it  up,  shook  it  violently, 
looked  at  it  intently  for  a moment,  and  then  burst  into  a half 
hysteric  laugh.  He  then  threw  the  can  down  and  examined 
no  further.  What  he  thought  of  the  matter  I do  not  know, 
as  I could  not  understand  w’hat  he  said.  His  laugh  indi- 
cated that  he  considered  me  a Jordan  worshiper. 

Our  way  from  Triest  was  chosen  by  rail  to  Venice.  Here, 
after  a few  days  spent  in  visiting  in  this  city  of  the  sea  as  de- 
scribed in  Chapter  HI.,  page  156,  our  company  parted,  some 


OXFORD. 


649 


going  to  southern  Italy  and  others  continuing  toward  Lon- 
don. We  shall  never  meet  again  in  this  life.  There  is  a 
peculiar  attachment  formed  fod  a traveling  companion,  espe- 
cially in  “journeying  in  the  Old  World.”  You  learn  to  know 
your  man,  and,  if  he  is  noble  and  gentlemanly  and  good,  to 
love  him;  if  not,  to  i)ity  him  all  the  more.  Our  way  was 
chosen  by  rail  to  Milan,  in  Italy  (see  page  153),  by  Genoa, 
Turin,  crossing  the  Alps  to  Paris  and  thence  to  London. 
And  so,  after  the  lapse  of  three  months  from  leaving  London, 
on  the  nineteenth  of  December,  we  were  again  in  the  metrop- 
olis of  the  world.  A day  was  spent  in  preparing  for  the  home- 
ward voyage.  On  Wednesday,  December  21st,  Dr.  Fry,  of  St. 
Louis,  Dr.  Thompson,  and  myself  purchased  tickets  for  Liver- 
pool, purposing  to  sail  therefrom  the  following  day.  Half  of 
the  day  or  more  was  spent  in  a visit  to  Oxford.  It  is  situated 
on  the  Thames,  and  is  a city  of  great  colleges.  Some  of  these 
institutions  have  stood  for  hundreds  of  years, — even  for  six 
hundred  years.  I was  much  interested  in  their  libraries  and 
disappointed  in  the  plainness  of  the  compartments  of  these 
institutions.  A solemn  sensation  comes  to  the  heart  as  one 
passes  from  the  halls  of  these  institutions  of  renown  to  the 
spot  “without  Bocardo  Gate”  opposite  Baliol  College,  where 
Latimer  and  Ridley,  illustrious  martyrs  of  the  Reformation, 
were  burned  at  the  stake,  October  16th,  1555.  It  makes  one 
tremble  to  stand  on  the  spot  where  the  benevolent,  honest, 
homely,  j)opular,  unpretending,  simple-hearted  hero.  Bishop 
Latimer,  suffered  death  to  appease  the  hellish  fury  of  the 
commission  of  Catholics.  It  is  fulfilled  as  he  prophesied, 
when  he  exclaimed  courageously,  “Be  of  good  comfort,  Master 
Ridley,  and  play  the  man ; we  shall  this  day  light  such  a 
candle,  by  God’s  grace,  in  England,  as  I trust  shall  never  be 
put  out.”  The  blood  of  the  Oxford  martyrs  was  the  light  and 
life  of  a flame  which  has  set  the  world  ablaze. 

Thursday,  at  10:20  a.  m.,  December  22d,  we  were  on  the 
steam-tender,  being  conveyed  to  the  pier  from  which  our  ves- 
sel was  to  sail.  Not  a little  anxiety  exists  as  to  what  kind  of 
a vessel  one  is  to  be  quartered  in  when  the  Atlantic  Ocean  is 


650 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


to  be  navigated.  We  wei’e  quite  agreeably  surprised  to  get 
the  “ City  of  Chester,”  which  is  one  of  the  very  best  of  the 
Inman  fleet.  Precisely  at  twelve  o’clock  the  tender  was  shoved 
ofl’  and  our  siflendid  vessel  pulled  back,  and  “all  clear”  w’as 
called  out  loud  and  strong,  and  the  queen  of  the  ocean  set  her 
bow  against  the  waves  to  j:)low  her  path  through  the  sea,  bear- 
ing us  to  our  far-off  home-land.  The  fog  at  the  starting  of 
the  vessel  was  so  dense  that  it  w'as  not  without  peril  that  she 
cleared  the  harbor.  After  getting  at  good  speed  she  ran  so 
close  to  another  vessel  that  one  could  almost  have  leaped  from 
the  one  steamer  to  the  other.  It  was  the  occasion  of  no  little 
alarm.  The  next  morning  we  Avere  in  the  harbor  at  Queens- 
town, Avhere  the  vessel  lay  till  evening  awaiting  the  arrival 
of  the  mails. 

The  first  four  days  of  the  voyage  out  from  Queenstown  Avere 
stormy,  Avith  tremendous  head-winds,  so  that  our  vessel  made 
poor  progress;  and  Ave  become  aAvfully  sick  besides.  For  four 
days  and  nights  I Avas  compelled  to  lie  in  that  little  shelf-like 
bed  or  l)erth,  vomiting,  and  meditating  betAveen-times.  After 
that  it  Avent  someAvhat  better,  and  I Avas  able  to  get  to  the  table 
at  meal-time.s,  but  Avith  imperfect  results.  The  registered  dis- 
tances made  by  the  vessel  each  day  Avere  as  folloAvs  : First  day, 
tAvo  hundn'd  and  forty  miles;  second,  tAvo  hundred  and 
tAventy-nine ; third,  tAvo  hundred  and  forty-six;  fourth,  tAVo 
liundred  and  forty-seven;  fifth,  two  hundred  and  seventy- 
tAvo;  si.\th,  three  hundred ; seventh,  three  hundred  and  one; 
eighth,  three  hundred  and  tAvelve;  ninth,  three  hundred  and 
three;  tentli,  tAvo  hundred  and  eighty-eight;  eleventh,  tAVO 
hundred  and  eighty. 

On  the  second  Saturday  night  of  the  voyage  I rctii'cd  ear- 
lier than  usual.  My  custom  Avas  to  stay  up  as  late  as  possi- 
ble so  as  to  make  the  night  shorter,  and  then  to  lie  in  bed  as 
late  as  possible  in  the  morning  so  the  day  Avould  not  seem 
so  long.  When  the  arms  of  sleep  embraced  me,  suddenly 
all  slumber  Avas  broken  by  the  ringing  of ‘all  the  bells,  little 
and  big,  on  the  vessel,  the  bloAving  of  the  fog-horn,  pounding 
of  pans  and  kettles,  until  there  Avas  noise  enough  to  scare  a 


ACROSS  THE  OCEAN. 


6.51 


ghost  on  the  ocean,  if  one  had  been  there.  A second  thought 
suggested  that  the  old  year  was  slipping  away  over  the  wild 
waves  and  the  smiling  face  of  the  new  shone  on  the  troirbled 
waters ; and  so  it  was, — the  old  year  was  gone  forever. 

On  Sunday  night  a heavy  storm  met  us  for  a few  hours, 
and  in  the  morning  our  vessel  was  covered  with  ice,  present- 
ing somewhat  the  appearance  of  an  iceberg.  At  9:00  a.  m., 
Mondav,  we  sighted  land  far  off  to  the  right,  and  knew  it 
to  be  Long  Island,  and  our  .ship  only  seventy  miles  from 
Sandy  Hook.  At  ten  o’clock  a ])ilot-boat  was  seen  close  in  our 
course,  and  at  the  signal  of  our  vessel  it  came  to  us,  and  the 
pilot  was  taken  on  board.  It  is  a terrific  .‘^iglit  to  behold 
when  this  hero  of  the  sea,  who  has  been  to.<scd  about  all  the 
night  waiting  for  a vessel  to  approach,  gets  out  of  his  boat 
into  a little  row-boat,  which  is  pushed  up  and  down  over  the 
foaming  waves  by  two  stout  men  till  the  pilot  climbs  uj)  the 
side  of  the  vessel  to  take  his  responsible  charge  through  the 
dangers  of  the  way  to  the  harbor.  No  vessel  is  allowed  to 
enter  the  harbor  without  the  presence  of  a pilot.  By  3 : 00  p. 
M.  our  vessel  was  past  Sandy  Hook  and  before  four  was  past 
quarantine."  By  and  b}^  she  stood  alongside  the  pier  in  New 
York,  and  I was  again  on  the  shore  whence  I sailed  five 
months  before.  During  thesfe  months’  ab.sence  I had  traveled, 
in  all,  over  sixteen  thousand  miles, — eleven  thousand  miles  on 
ssa  and  five  thousand  or  more  on  land.  About  five  hundred 
miles  were  traveled  on  horseback  and  on  donkeys  while  in 
Palestine  and  Egypt.  Landing  in  New  York  on  Monday  fol- 
lowing New-year’s-day,  which  was  the  holiday,  I had  to  pay 
three  dollars  for  a cab  to  carry  myself  and  trunk  only  a few 
squares  to  the  railroad  depot.  I advise  all  persons  coming 
home  from  a foreign  trip  not  to  land  on  New-year’s-day. 

Glad  to  get  back  ? Glad  to  get  to  America  again  ? Glad  to 
get  home  ? Who  can  tell  how  glad  ? Who  can  appreciate  it 
but  one  who  has  experienced  it  ? The  cars  had  been  too 
slow  and  the  vessel  too  tardy  with  the  waves.  The  nights 
were  too  long  and  the  days  too  tedious.  But  days  and  nights 
came  and  went,  and  God  was  good;  and  Tuesday  evening. 


652 


EGYPT— LAND  OF  THE  PHARAOHS. 


January  3d,  I was  again  with  my  little  family  under  father’s 
and  mother’s  roof,  with  brothers  and  sisters  who  had  come 
home  to  welcome  my  return.  Just  five  months  had  rolled 
away  since  I had  seen  the  faces  of  those  so  dear.  The  children 
had  grown  and  changed  greatly ; but  my  family  were  again 
my  own,  and  that  evening  was  the  happiest  hour  I ever  saw. 

Of  all  countries  upon  our  globe,  none  is  fairer  than  our  own 
broad  land.  Egypt  and  Palestine  garner  wonderful  and  sacred 
treasures  of  antiquity.  Greece,  Italy,  and  indeed  all  Europe, 
are  full  of  the  foot-prints  of  the  giant  Time,  who  has  led  his 
hosts  of  kings,  poets,  architects,  artists,  and  warriors  over  the 
mountains  and  plains,  and  through  cities  of  renown.  There 
are  tropical  skies  in  which  the  heavens  appear  more  glorious, 
and  under  which  delicate  flowers  and  fruits  grow  more  luxu- 
riantly in  valleys  guarded  by  the  Alps  and  Apennines.  There 
are  in  England  a wealth,  and  strength  of  government  which 
have  elements  one  would  like  to  weave  into  our  own  republic. 
But  in  America  there  is  an  individuality  and  personal  man- 
hood which,  with  all  its  perils,  is  our  crown  of  glory.  Our 
free  institutions  and  free  church,  and  our  free  people  and 
almost  boundless  plains,  make  a garden  of  retreat  for  the 
oppressed  of  the  nations  of  the  earth.  Here  every  man  may 
have  his  own  home,  every  heart  its  joy,  every  woman  her  love, 
and  every  man  his  family.  Here  God  in  his  providence  and 
grace  is  working  out  a new  problem  in  the  destin}^  of  the  race, 
and  making  a new  revelation  of  himself  to  the  world. 

All  through  Palestine  after  the  rains,  which  came  in  No- 
vember, the  most  beautiful  flowers  and  lilies  grew  up  as  in  a 
da}',  covering  the  valleys  and  hills,  which  were  before  barren, 
with  the  most  delicate  and  precious  loveliness  and  beauty. 
May  the  blessings  of  heaven,  in  abundant  showers,  fall  on 
every  home  into  which  these  pages  come,  and  may  the  flowers 
bloom  and  the  lilies  grow  and  the  flelds  yield  their  grain 
and  their  fruits.  There  are  homes  which  are  forever  desolate 
because  warm  hearts  and  pure  spirits,  once  their  inhabitants, 
have  gone  away  — and  they  never  come  again.  May  we  over- 
take them  in  the  good  world  to  which  we  journey. 


. ^ 


S.  ■ 


INDEX 


Abana,  309-312. 

Abbotsford,  80. 

•Ujoo  K.-ihasheb,  590. 

Abnihiiin, — birth,  etc.,  272. 
Abraham  and  Hagar,  347. 
Abraham  in  Damascus,  324. 
Abraham  in  Egypt,  595. 
Abraham’s  Oak,  552. 

Abu  Gosh,  576. 

Aceldama,  504. 

Acropolis  of  Athens,  214. 
Addison,  97. 

Admah,  452. 

Adriatic  Sea,  203. 

.digean  Sea,  227. 

Agora  at  Athens,  220. 

Allah,  3S7. 

Ai,  44.i,  444. 

Aigaleos  Mountain,  212. 

Ain  Julud,  394. 

Ajalon,  577. 

Alexandria,  ancient,  641. 
Ale.xandria, — modern  city,  645. 
Alexandri.an  libraries,  643. 
Alexandrian  schools,  643. 

Alps,  1.38,  154,  649. 

Altar  of  Incense,  436. 

Amerigo  Vespucci,  147. 

Amwas,  577. 

Andre,  M.ajor,  96. 

Anne  of  Cleves,  98. 

Anti-Lebanon,  309. 

Apennines,  147,  154,  202. 

Apis,  629. 

Apostles’  Spring,  466. 

Appian  Way,  187,  188. 

Appii  Forum,  187. 

Arab  race  down  the  pyramid,  617. 


Arab  women,  .302. 

Arabs,  567,  609. 

Arabs  at  meal,  412. 

Arabs  at  the  pyramids,  619. 

Arch  of  Pilate,  534,  5.35. 
Archipelago,  207. 

Ark  of  the  Covenant,  4.37. 
Armenian  Monastery,  542. 

Arno,  146,  105. 

Arti.sts,  151. 

Asahel,  351. 

Askar,  432. 

Assos,  250. 

Athena,  215. 

Athenians,  213. 

Athens,  211-21.3. 

Avassalouk,  255. 

Awerta,  433. 

Ayr,  62. 

Baal,  299,  386. 

Baalbee,  298. 

Backshish,  2.S4,  589. 

I'.ake-oven,  382. 

Balata,  433. 

Balm  of  Gilead,  624. 

Banias,  331. 

Bannockburn,  69. 

Baptism  of  Christ,  460. 
Baptistery,  Florence,  149. 

Barada,  309. 

Barak,  .344,  395. 

Barclay's  Quarry,  617. 

Barlimceus,  451. 

Baths  of  Titus,  168. 

Battle  of  David  with  Goliath,  575. 
Baltic  of  the  gods,  387. 

Bay  of  Bautry,  39. 


654 

Bay  of  Salamis,  209,  212. 

Bazaars  of  Constantinople,  241. 
Bazaars  of  Damascus,  316. 
Bazaars  of  Jerusalem,  544. 
Bedford  Jail,  132. 

Bedouins,  309,  344,  349,  568. 
Begging,  38,  284,  699. 

Beisan,  398. 

Beitin,  443. 

Bekaa,  296,  308. 

Belfast,  53. 

Bells  of  Shandon,  37. 

Bema,  218. 

Bethabara,  457. 

Bethany,  469. 

Bethel,  443. 

Bethlehem,  547,  556,  557. 
Bethsaida,  361. 

Bethsaida  Julius,  361. 

Bethshan,  398. 

Beyroot,  278. 

Bezetha,  482. 

Bible-house,  Constantinople,  243. 
Bill  of  fare  on  the  vessel,  30. 
Billingsgate,  88. 

Birds  of  Palestine,  384. 

Birth  of  Christ,  561. 

Black  Rock  Castle,  32. 

Black  Sea,  242. 

Blackfriar’s  Bridge,  106. 

Blarney  Castle,  35. 

Blarney  Stone,  35. 

Boleyn,  Anne,  108. 

Bondage  of  Israel,  591. 

Bosporus,  228,  242. 

Bottles,  346. 

Bradford  martyrs,  126. 

Bricks,  314. 

Bridge  of  Sighs,  160,  161. 
Brindisi,  203. 

Bromley,  Thomas,  100. 

Browning,  147. 

Bruce,  Robert,  67. 

Bunhill  Fields,  128. 

Bunyan’s  Tomb,  130, 131. 

Buoys,  23. 

Burder,  128. 

Burial  at  Sea,  27. 

Burial-grounds,  506. 

Burke,  46. 

Burket  el  Mamilla,  504. 

Burket  es  Sultan,  504. 


INDEX. 

Burket  Israel,  5.33. 

Bums,  birth-place  of,  65. 
Burns,  Robert,  62. 

Cab-drivers,  34. 

Cactuses,  279. 

Csenaculum,  543. 

Caesarea  Philippi,  331. 
Cairo,  593,  598. 

Caligula,  172. 

Call  to  prayer,  321. 

Calvary,  320,  519,  540,  583. 
Camels,  251,  340,  385,  407. 
Camp,  292. 

Camp  life,  293. 

Campanile  at  Venice,  163. 
Campbell,  97. 

Cana,  371,  372. 

Canaan  possessed,  273. 
Canaanites,  272. 

Canon  Gate,  Edinburgh,  78. 
Canosa,  203. 

Capernaum,  356-359. 

Captain  Kennedy,  29. 
Captivity  of  Judah,  278. 
Caravans,  294. 

Carmel,  580. 

Carob-tree,  287. 

Carracalla,  172. 

Carrying  children,  289. 

Cars,  English,  85. 

Castle  in  Jerusalem,  534. 
Castle,  Irish,  39. 

Castle  of  Dublin,  46. 

Castle  of  Edinburgh,  75. 
Catacombs,  181. 

Cathedral  at  Glasgow,  61. 
Cathedral  of  Milan,  155. 
Cathedrals  of  Rome,  167. 
Cathedral  of  St.  Patrick,  47. 
Cathedral  worshipers,  151. 
Cave  of  Adullum,  551. 

Cave  of  Machpelah,  554. 
Cave  of  Pan,  339. 

Cedar  of  Lebanon,  299. 
Ceres,  Temple,  212. 
Chambers  of  city  gates,  514. 
Chariot  of  Ahab,  399. 
Chaucer,  97. 

Cheops,  611. 

Cherith,  454, 463. 

Childhood  longings,  21. 


Chios,  2G3. 

Christ  born,  275. 

Christmas,  G51. 

Church  of  St.  John,  409. 

Churcti  of  St.  Mark,  157,  1.58. 

Cliurcli  of  the  Annunciation,  379. 
Churcli  of  the  Holy  Sepulcher,  536,  537. 
Church  of  the  Madeleine,  137. 

Church  of  the  Nativity,  559. 

Churning,  347. 

Cisterns  in  Palestine,  401. 

Cities  of  Refuge,  343. 

City  Road  Chapel,  IIG,  127. 

City  of  Berlin, — vessel,  29. 

Clarke,  Adam,  52. 

Cleopatra,  624. 

Climate  of  Egypt,  59G. 

Climate  of  Palestine,  294,  506. 
Coele-Syria,  295. 

Colerain,  52. 

Columbus,  14:!. 

Colosseum,  173. 

Comet,  first  steam-boat,  60. 

Company  in  Holy  Land,  205,  285. 
Company  in  Ireland,  3:j. 

Constantinople,  229,  235. 

Coos,  266. 

Copts,  597,  602. 

Corfu,  204,  648. 

Cork,  .37. 

Corn-gathering,  592. 

Coronation  chair,  100. 

Costumes,  568. 

Cotton  grotto,  517. 

Court  of  Eastern  House,  315. 
Covenanters,  Scotch,  74. 

Coverdale  Bible,  46. 

Cradle  of  Christ,  528. 

Crater  of  Vesuvius,  200. 

Crete,  647. 

Custom-House,  Austria,  648. 
Custom-House,  Egypt,  647. 
Custom-House,  Irish,  32. 

Cyprus,  266. 

Damascus,  310,  314,  319. 

Damascus  Gate,  475,  614. 

Dan,  340. 

Dardanelles,  227. 

Damley’s  murder,  76. 

Date-Palm,  484. 

David  slaying  Goliath,  675. 


INDEX. 

David  with  the  Philistines,  396 
David’s  Street,  Jerusalem,  542 
Dead  Sea,  45:i,  4.54,  455. 
Deborah,  344,  395. 

DeFoc,  129. 

DeLcsseps,  587. 

Demosthenes, — story,  218. 
Derdaiah,  342. 

Dervishes,  637. 

Dickens,  97. 

Diligence,  295. 

Diocletian,  172. 

Divan,  316. 

Division  of  the  Kingdom,  273. 
Doges,  Palace,  157. 

Dogs,  23.3,  646. 

Ilome  of  the  Chain,  525. 

Dome  of  the  Rock,  521. 
Donkey-cart,  40. 
Donkey-riding,  625,  645. 
Donkeys,  29;i. 

Dorcas,  580. 

Dothan,  405. 

I'ouglas,  Earl,  69. 

Dragoman,  242,  286. 

Druses,  296. 

Iiryburg  .\bbey,  81. 

Dryden,  97. 

Dublin,  4.5. 

Dublin  University,  45. 

Duke  of  Wellington,  110. 

Dung  Gate,  516. 

Eakly  rains,  3.39. 

Ebal,  415. 

Ecce  Homo,  535. 

Ecumenical  Conference,  114. 
Edinburgh,  74. 

Edinburgh  Castle,  75. 

Edward  II.,  100. 

Edward,  IV.,  100. 

Egypt,  glory  of,  594,  695. 

Egypt,  inhabitants  of,  597. 
Egypt,  population,  592. 
Egyptian  donkeys,  626. 
Egyptian  mummy,  636. 
Egyptian  people,  641. 

El  Fijeh,  310. 

El  Kubeibeh,  577. 

El  Leddan,  341. 

El  Mabrakah,  386. 

El  Meshhed,  :;7:i. 


656 

Elpusps,  212. 

Eli,  439. 

Elijah,  3So,  386,  408,  441,  463. 

Elijah  and  Ahab,  398,  399. 

Elisha,  392,  400,  4o6,  408,  410. 
Elisha’s  Fountain,  446-449. 
Elizabpth,  99,  100. 

Eniniaus,  577. 

En  Gaiinim,  403. 

En  Rogpl,  506. 

En-slipmesh,  466. 

Eiulcr,  390. 

Enniskillen,  48. 

English  Channel,  144. 

English  Church  in  Jeriisalpm,  573. 
Enon,  near  Salem,  448. 

Ephesus,  253. 

Episcopal  Church  in  Jerusalem,  573. 
Epistles  of  Paul,  191. 

Erechtheum,  215. 

Es.lraelon,  3S">-390. 

Bsheol,  552.  * 

Evictions  in  Ireland,  38. 

F.\e.ui.  448. 

Farah  Valley,  410. 

Fastnet  Light-house,  31. 

Father  Matthew,  36. 

Father  Front, *37. 

Fellahin,  567. 

Festival  of  Ilassan,  603. 

Field  of  blood,  .">04. 

Fig-trees  286,  565. 

Fire-test,  388. 

First  view  of  the  Holy  Land,  270. 
Flocks,  .344. 

Florence,  146. 

Flowers  in  Palestine,  390. 

Fog  at  sea,  25. 

Foggia,  202. 

Food,  583. 

Forests  in  Palestine,  563. 

Forth  River,  67. 

Forum  of  Trajan,  171. 

Fountain  of  Gideon,  394. 

Fountain  of  the  Sun,  622. 

Fountains,  280,  381,  401. 

Eoxes,  341. 

Foyle  River,  50. 

France,  138. 

Fuchsias,  40. 

Funerals,  Greek,  231. 


INDEX. 

Funerals  in  Scotland,  72. 
Funerals,  Mohammedan,  582. 
Funerals,  Turkish,  232. 

G.\d,vk.v  Mountains,  365. 
Galarie  Uffizi,  149. 

Gap  of  Dunioe,  42. 

Gate  of  CiEsarea,  333. 

Gate  of  Damascus,  327. 

Gates  of  Jerus.alem,  512. 

Gath  Hepher,  373. 

Gay,  John,  97. 

Gazelle,  351,  466. 

Gehazi,  393. 

Gehenna,  503. 

Gennesarot,  Plains  of,  363. 
Genoa,  143. 

Gerizim,  415. 

Gesture  of  Orientals,  206. 
Gethsemane,  475,  494,  496. 
Giant’s  Causeway,  5.3. 

Gideon’s  battle,  395. 

Gilboa,  385,  392,  394. 

Gilgal,  4.52. 

Giloh,  549. 

Giovanni,  162. 

Glasgow,  60. 

Glengariff,  46. 

Goats,  346. 

Golden  Calves,  341. 

Golden  Gate,  512. 

Golden  Horn,  232. 

Goldsmith,  46. 

Golgotha,  519,  540. 

Gomorrah,  452. 

Gondolas,  157. 

Government  of  Palestine,  276. 
Greek  churches,  213. 

Grdek  clergy,  205. 

Greeks,  227. 

Greenoch,  60. 

Grinding  at  the  mill,  401. 

Guild  Hall,  71. 

Hagab,  347. 

H.all,  Newman,  113. 

Hannah.  439. 

Haram  es  Sheriff,  520. 
Harvesting  in  Ireland,  48. 
Hnsbany,  342. 

Ilassan,  festival,  603. 

Ilattin,  371. 

Heather,  39. 


INDEX. 


657 


Hebron,  053,  554. 

Heliopolis,  695,  621,  622. 

Hellespont,  227. 

Henry  VIII.,  108. 

Hermits,  389. 

Hermon,  289,  329. 

Herod  Antipas,  366. 

Herod  Philip,  332. 

Herodium,  551. 

Herod's  Colonnade,  408. 

Herod’s  Gate,  514. 

Hieroglyphics,  6.32. 

Highlands  of  Scotland,  66. 
High-priest,  438. 

Hill  of  Evil  Counsel,  503,  547. 

Hill  of  Offense,  4S8,  492. 

Hill,  Roland,  113. 

Hills  of  Galilee,  384. 

Hinnom,  Valley  of,  479,  503. 

History  of  Palestine,  271. 

Hobah,  312. 

Holy  Fire,  542. 

Holy  Rood  Palace,  70. 

Holy  Sepulcher,  539. 

Home,  0.V2. 

Horses  in  Syria,  283. 

Hospital  of  Knights  of  St.  John,  544. 
Hotel  du  Nil,  593. 

House  of  Commons,  91. 

House  of  Obed-edom,  576. 

House  of  Peers,  90. 

House-tops,  428. 

Houses  in  Palestine,  315,  427. 
Howard,  Alexander,  285. 

Howling  Dervishes,  6;;6. 

Huleh,  349. 

Humbert,  King  of  Italy,  173. 

Husks,  287. 

Hymettus,  212. 

Ilissus,  219. 

Imprisonment  of  Paul,  191. 

Incident  in  the  Alps,  142. 

Innisfallen,  42. 

Inversnaid,  66. 

Ireland,  climate  of,  33. 

Ireland,  location  of,  32. 

Irish  jaunting-car,  34. 

Irish  people,  54. 

Irish  wit,  34,  44. 

Ismailia,  689,  591. 

Italian  skies,  154. 

Italy,  140,  165. 


Jabbok,  448. 

Jabesh-gilead,  398. 

Jackal,  341. 

Jacob’s  Well,  431. 

Jaunting-car,  34. 

Jebel  Dehu,  390. 

Jebel  el  Baruk,  289. 

Jebel  Kasiun,  310. 

Jebel  Keneseh,  289. 

Jenin,  402,  403. 

Jericho,  450,  451. 

.Jerusalem,  442,  472,  477,  484. 
Jerusalem  Chamber,  102. 

Jews  in  Palestine,  566. 

Jews’  wailing-place,  529. 
Jezebel,  385,  398,  400. 

Jezreel,  389,  394,  398,  400 
Jiljulieh,  451. 

John  the  Baptist,  328,  332,  366. 
Joppa,  580. 

Joppa  Gate,  515. 

Jordan  River,  447,  456. 

Jordan  Valley,  351,  447. 

Joseph  of  Arimathea,  579. 
Joseph  sold,  406. 

Joshua,  350. 

Josiah’s  death,  399. 

Jotham’s  Rock,  420. 

Judgment  of  Mohammed,  514. 
Julud,  448. 

Kana-el-jilii.,  373. 

Kedesh,  343. 

Kedron  Valley,  490 
Kefr  Hawar,  328. 

Kefr  Kenna,  372. 

Kenmare,  41. 

Kerry  Mountains,  38. 
Khamasa,  577. 

Khan  Jubb,  Yuseph,  352. 

Khan  Sawich,  434. 

Khan  Sofar,  288. 

Kildare,  44. 

Kingsley’s  Tomb,  284. 

Kirjath  Jearim,  576. 

Kishon,  386,  395,  399. 

Kissing  the  Blarney-stone,  35. 
Knox’s  character,  78. 

Knox’s  home,  78. 

Knox’s  pulpit,  69. 

Knox’s  tomb,  79. 

Kubbet  es  Sakhra,  621. 
Kuloniyeh,  577. 


6.58 

Lady  Jane  Gray,  108. 

Lagan  Kiver,  53. 

Laish,  340. 

Lake  Katrine,  66. 

Lakes  of  Killamey,  41. 

Lakes  of  tlie  Meadow,  312. 

Lambetli  Palace,  105. 

Laud-league,  Irish,  38. 

Landmarks,  208. 

Laud  of  Goshen,  590. 

Land-tenure  in  Palestine,  57L 
Lapping  water,  394. 

Latimer,  649. 

Latrun,  577. 

Lazarus,  468. 

Leaning  tower,  145. 

Leaving  home,  22 
Leaving  Jerusalem,  574. 

Leaving  Joppa,  586. 

Leaving  the  wharf,  23. 

Lebanon  mountains,  287,  289. 
Lebonah,  434. 

Lemons,  287,  392. 

Leontes,  295. 

Lepers,  425,  544. 

Lights  of  Zion,  562. 

Limasol,  266. 

Litany,  295. 

^ittle  Ilermon.  385,  390,  392,  395,  396. 
Liverpool,  650. 

Livingstone,  96. 

Lodgings  in  Palestine,  286. 

Lollard's  prison,  105. 

London,  85,  86, 125. 

London  from  the  Clock-Tower,  125. 
London  sinfulness,  125. 

London  Tower,  106. 

Londonderry,  50. 

Lough  Em,  48. 

Louis  XVI.,  135. 

Luz,  443. 

Lycabettus,  212. 

Lyimrgus,  219. 

Lydda,  580. 

SIaccaroni,  making,  195. 

Madeleine  Church,  Paris,  137. 
ilagdala,  364. 

Mamelukes,  600. 

Mamertine  prison,  Rome,  170,  190. 
Mamre,  552. 

Manners,  Irish,  39. 


INDEX. 

Marie  Antoinette,  136. 

Mariette,  631. 

Mark  Antony,  169. 

Markets  at  Joppa,  583. 

Marriage  in  Damascus,  317. 

JIars’  Hill,  220. 

Martha,  467. 

Martyr,  Rogers,  126. 

Martyrs  at  Oxford,  649. 

Martyrs  of  Smithfield,  126. 
Martyrs,  virgins,  70. 

Mary  at  Bethany,  467. 

Mary  Magdalene,  364. 

JIary,  Queen  of  Scots,  99,  100. 
Mary’s  journey,  385. 

Meals  in  Europe,  202. 

Medici,  150. 

Mediterranean  Sea,  263. 

Megiddo,  399. 

Melrose  Abbey,  82. 

Memphis,  6'2S. 

Merom,  349,  352. 

Michael  Angelo,  146,  150,  175. 
Milan,  153,  649. 

Milan  Cathedral,  153. 

Milk  in  Palestine,  347. 

Milton,  97. 

Minerva,  215. 

Miracle  at  Xain,  390. 

Jliraeles  of  Christ,  362. 

Missions  at  Beyroot,  279. 

Misgions  in  Egypt,  601. 

Mitylene,  250. 

Mizpeh,  441. 

Mohammedans  at  prayer,  207,  240. 
Mohammedans’  call  to  prayer,  239. 
Mohammedans’  funeral,  582. 
Mohammedans’  massacre,  323. 
Mohammedans’  school,  600. 
Mohammedans’  Sunday,  321. 
Molech,  503. 

Money-changers,  546. 

Mont  Blanc,  154. 

Mont  Cenis  Tunnel,  139. 

Monte  Rosa,  154. 

Moore,  Thomas,  46. 

Moorefields,  127. 

Moriah,  482. 

Morocco,  269. 

Moses  in  Egypt,  628. 

Mosque  el  Aksa,  527. 

Mosque  el  Azhar,  600. 


INDEX. 


659 


Mosijue  of  St.  Sophia,  237. 
Mosques,  321,  599. 

■Mother  Carey’s  chickens,  29. 
Mount  Eb.al,  415,  416. 

Mount  Gerizim,  415,  416. 

Mount  Moriah,  488. 

Mount  of  Olives,  487,  488,  489. 
Mount  Tabor,  392. 

Mount  Zion,  515. 

Mountains  of  Gadara,  352. 
Mourners,  627. 

Muckross  Abbey,  43. 

Mukhnah,  433. 

Mummy,  636. 

Museum  at  Cairo,  635. 

Kablcs,  413. 

Nain,  390. 

Naaman,  310,  322,  408. 

Naphtali  mountains,  342. 

Naples,  194. 

Napoleon  in  Palestine,  319. 
Nargile,  209. 

Nazareth,  373,  .384. 

Neby  Daud,  543. 

Neby  Samwel,  441. 

Necropolis  of  Egypt,  630. 
Nehemiah  builds  the  temple,  274. 
Nelson,  Lord,  46,  110. 

Nero’s  palace,  168. 

Newton,  Sir  Isaac,  95. 

New-year  at  sea,  651. 

Nile,  591,  592,  635,  639. 

Nile  and  pyramids,  610. 
Nilometer,  636. 

Nob,  510. 

North  Channel,  60. 

Nun  of  Kenmare,  41. 

Obadiah,  387. 

Obelisk  of  On,  622,  6'23. 

O'Connell,  48. 

Odeum  of  Herodes,  219. 

Oil-mill,  400. 

Oleanders,  363. 

Olive-oil,  400. 

Olive-trees,  380,  490,  495. 

Olivet,  470, 487. 

Olympium,  217. 

Omen,  ill,  at  sea,  28. 

On,  595,  621,  622. 

Ophel,  482. 

Oranges,  287. 

Orchards  at  Joppa,  582. 


Orchards  in  Palestine,  392. 
Oriental  dress,  377. 

Oriental  travelers,  247. 

Origen,  644. 

Orontes,  308. 

Oxford,  649. 

Pagan-  tomb,  182. 

Palace  of  the  Doges,  Venice,  159. 
Palatine  Hill,  Rome,  17-2. 

Palazo  Pitti,  Florence,  150. 
Palm-tree,  287,  404. 

Pantheon,  176. 

Papyrus,  361. 

Parables  of  Christ,  363. 

Paris,  135. 

Parker,  147. 

Parliament  building,  88,  89, 
Parliament,  Irish,  45. 

Parnell,  37. 

Parthenon,  215,  216. 

Patmos,  264. 

Paul  at  Athens,  221. 

Paul  at  Csesarea,  184. 

Paul  at  Ephesus,  259. 

Paul  in  Rome,  183. 

Paul’s  hired  house,  185. 

Peck,  Bishop,  118. 

Penn,  William,  36. 

Pentelicus,  212. 

Pharpar,  328. 

Phenix  Park,  47. 

Philemon,  Epistle,  189. 

Philip  at  Samaria,  410. 

Piazza,  St.  Mark,  Venice,  158. 
Pigeons,  Venice,  159. 

Pilate’s  Arch,  534,  535. 

Pilate’s  Stairs,  179. 

Pilgrims  in  Palestine,  459. 
Pilot-boat,  651. 

Pilot  leaving,  24. 

Pine-trees,  287. 

Pirseus,  206,  209,  227. 

Pisa,  143. 

Pitt,  95. 

Place  de  La  Concorde,  135. 

Plain  of  Esdraelon,  385. 

Plain  of  Gennesaret,  360. 

Plain  of  Moreh,  430. 

Plain  of  Rephaim,  547. 

Plain  of  Sharon,  578. 

Plan  of  Jerusalem,  483. 

Plowing,  330,  431,  598. 


CGO 


INDEX. 


Pnyx,  218. 

Polycarp,  252. 

Pompeii,  195. 

Pompey’s  Pillar,  G4.3,  644,  645. 

Pool  of  Bethesda,  533. 

Pool  of  Gihon,  504. 

Pool  of  Ilezekiah,  542. 

Pool  of  Siloam,  479,  500,  510. 

Pool  of  Solomon,  549. 

Population  of  Palestine,  566. 
*Porpoise,  28. 

Port  Rush,  52. 

Port  Said,  5S7. 

Poverty  of  the  people,  572. 

Praying  before  the  Mosque,  526. 
Products  of  Palestine,  564. 

Prophets,  373. 

Prophets  of  Baal,  386. 

Propylsea,  215. 

Puteoli,  185. 

Pyramid  of  Cephren,  617. 

Pyramid  of  Cheops,  611. 

Pyramids,  593. 

Pyramids  of  Ghizeh,  609. 

Pyramids  of  Sakkarah,  630. 

fJuARAKTiXE  mountains,  455. 
(Quarrel,  Arab,  546. 

Quarries  under  Jerusalem,  517. 
Queen’s  College,  Cork,  36. 
Queen.stown,  32,  650. 

Raiiab,  4.50. 

Rain,  339. 

Rainfall  in  Palestine,  506. 

Rameses,  590. 

Rameses  Statue,  629. 

Ramleh,  578,  579. 

Raphael,  177,  337. 

Religions  of  Palestine,  276. 

Rhodes,  266. 

Ridley,  649. 

River  .Tnrdan,  447,  456. 

Rizzio,  75. 

Road  from  Jerusalem  to  Joppa,  574. 
Roads  in  Syria,  282. 

Robbers’  Fountain,  440. 

Robert  College,  244. 

Robinson’s  Arch,  532. 

Rogers,  John,  126. 

Roman  Forum,  169. 

Rome,  167,  175. 

Roofs  ot  houses,  427. 

Ross  Castle,  43. 


Round  towers  in  Ireland,  49. 

Royal  cisterns,  527. 

Royal  Palace,  173. 

Russian  buildings,  506. 

Russian  pilgrims,  551. 

Sabbath  at  Baalbec,  300. 

Sabbath  in  Rome,  169. 

Sabustich,  411. 

Sacred  Rock,  523. 

Safed,  360. 

Sakkarah,  625. 

Saladin,  battle  of,  371. 

Salamis,  209. 

Salome,  366. 

Salutations  in  Palestine  570. 

Samaria,  487. 

Samaritan  Pentateuch,  423. 

Samaritans,  421. 

Samos,  263. 

Sanballet’s  Temple,  419. 

Sandal,  568. 

Santa  Croce,  150. 

Saul  and  the  witch,  396. 

Saul’s  conversion,  324. 

Savonarola,  148. 

Scala,  Santa,  179. 

Schliemann,  Dr.,  207. 

Schliemann,  Mrs.,  209. 

Scotland,  59. 

Scott  monument,  75,  83. 

Scott,  Walter,  his  home,  80. 

Scottish  character,  72. 

Scottish  language,  77. 

Scott’s  tomb,  81. 

Scutari,  245. 

Sea  described,  26. 

Sea-gul's,  29. 

Sea  of  Galilee,  352,  354,  355,  365,  368,  370. 
Sea  of  Marmora,  228. 

Sea-sickness,  24. 

Seilun,  434. 

Seine,  136. 

Sepulchers,  509. 

Serapeum,  629,  631. 

Seven  hills  ot  Rome,  166. 

Shakespeare,  97. 

Sharon,  Plain  of,  578. 

Shechem,  411,  415,  429. 

Sheep  in  Syria,  344,  348. 

Sheep-fold,  364. 

Shellaby,  416. 

Shepherds,  344,  561. 


INDEX. 


Shiloh,  434. 

Shimei,  4G6. 

Ships  of  the  desert,  584. 

Shops,  281. 

Shtora,  293. 

Shunammite  women,  391,  393. 
Shuuein,  392. 

Siege  of  Londonderry,  51. 

Siloah,  499. 

Siloam,  479. 

Simon  the  fanner,  581. 

Simpson,  Bishop,  IIG. 

Sister  Frances  Clare,  41. 

Sistino  Chapel,  177. 

Shell  igs,  31. 

Smith,  I)r.  S.  F.,  228. 

Smithfield,  126. 

Smyrna,  250. 

Snow-houses,  290. 

Snow  of  Lebanon,  290. 

Sodom,  452. 

Solomon’s  stables,  528. 

Southey,  97. 

Sphinx,  618. 

Spina  Christi,  449,  453. 

Spurgeon,  111. 

St.  Margaret’s  Church,  London,  91 
St.  Michele  della  Chiusa,  141. 

St.  Paolo  Fuori  le  Mura,  180. 

St.  Paul’s  Cathedral,  109. 

St.  Paul’s  Tomb,  ISO. 

St.  Peter’s,  in  Vincoli,  175. 

St.  Peter’s,  Home,  178. 

St.  Stephen’s  Gate,  492,  51L 
Stadium  at  Athens,  219. 

Stanley,  Dean,  99. 

State-rooms,  29. 

Statue  of  Burke,  46. 

Statue  of  Goldsmith,  46. 

Statue  of  Lord  Nelson,  46. 

Statue  of  Moses,  175. 

Statue  of  Rameses,  629. 

Statue  of  Thomas  Moore,  46. 
Statue  of  William  of  Orange,  46. 
Sterling  Castle,  6'^. 

Stone  in  the  quarry,  Baalbee,  301. 
Stone  of  Reiit,  4G7. 

Stone  of  Scone,  100. 

Stones  at  Baalbee,  300. 

Stork,  257,  351. 

Storm  at  sea,  203. 

Straits  of  Gibraltar,  269. 

Street  called  Straight,  325. 


Street  in  Jerusalem,  485. 

Streets  of  Constantinople,  236. 
Streets  of  Jerusalem,  520. 

Suez  Canal,  588. 

Sugar-cane,  583. 

Sunset  in  the  Orient,  164. 
Superstition,  525. 

Surrey  Chapel,  London,  113. 
Sweet-fennel,  351. 

Swift,  Dean,  46,  47. 

Sycamore-tree,  287. 

Synagogue  in  Jerusalem,  644. 
Synagogue,  ruins,  Capernaum,  356, 
Syria,  ancient,  272. 

Syria,  modern,  345. 

Tabeun.^clk  at  Shiloh,  435. 

Tabitha,  580. 

Tabor,  385,  392,  395. 

Taxes  in  Palestine,  571. 

Tekoa,  551. 

Tell-el-Kadi,  340. 

Tell  Hum,  356. 

Temperature  of  Palestine,  563. 
Temple  of  Apis,  629. 

Temple  of  Diana,  254. 

Temple  of  Jupiter,  217. 

Temple  of  Jupiter,  Baalbee,  303. 
Temple  of  the  Sun,  Baalbee,  304. 
Temple  of  the  Sun,  Heliopolis,  622. 
Temple  of  Theseus,  Athens,  217. 
Temple  Plateau,  521. 

Tenting,  286. 

Tents  of  Kedar,  254. 

Thames,  105. 

Thank.sgiving  dinner,  583. 

Theater  of  Bacchus,  219. 

Theater  of  Ephesus,  258,  260. 
Thieves  of  Jericho,  463. 

Thornhill,  110. 

Thrashing-floor,  296. 

Tiber,  166. 

Tiberias,  365,  366,  367. 

Tiberius,  172. 

Time  to  visit  Palestine,  277. 
Tintaretto,  162. 

Titian,  162,  163. 

Titus,  168. 

Tolbooth,  Edinburgh,  78. 

Tomb  of  Absalom,  497. 

Tomb  of  Adam,  541. 

Tomb  of  Christ,  509. 

Tomb  of  David,  543. 


INDEX. 


662 

Tomb  of  Elisha,  489. 

Tomb  of  Hezekiah,  488. 

Tomb  of  Jehoshaphat,  498. 

Tomb  of  John  the  Baptist,  489. 
Tomb  of  Jonah,  373. 

Tomb  of  Joseph,  429. 

Tomb  of  Laz;irus,  469. 

Tomb  of  Mary,  493. 

Tomb  of  Nimrod,  329. 

Tomb  of  Obediah,  489. 

Tomb  of  Rachel,  548. 

Tomb  of  St.  James,  498. 

Tomb  of  Tih,  632. 

Tombs  of  Nain,  391. 

Tombs  of  the  Jndge.s,  508. 

Tombs  of  the  Kings,  507. 

Tophet,  503. 

Tower  Green,  108. 

Tower  of  Antonia,  534. 

Tower  of  David,  485,  515. 

Tower  of  Hippicus,  485,  515. 
Tower  of  the  Forty,  579. 

Trajan,  171. 

Transfiguration,  178,  335. 

Travel  in  Palestine,  282. 

Travelers,  371. 

Traveling  in  London,  104. 

Trees  in  Palestine,  390,  411. 

Triest,  648. 

Trinity  College,  4.7. 

Triumphal  .Arch  of  Titus,  170,  171. 
Troas,  248. 

Trosach’s  mountains,  07. 

Troy,  248. 

Turin,  141. 

Turks,  567. 

Turks  and  women,  206. 

Tyropeon  Valley,  482,  500,  516. 

rsivERSiTV  of  Scotland,  60. 

Upper  Pool  of  Gihon,  505. 
Valencia,  31. 

Valley  of  Ajalon,  577. 

Valley  of  Hinnom,  482,  502,  503. 
Valley  of  Kedron,  481,  502. 

Valley  of  Shechem,  414. 

Valley  of  the  Giants,  547. 

Valley  of  the  Jordan,  447. 

Vatican,  168. 

Venice,  156,  649. 

Vessel  at  sea,  26. 

Vesuvius,  198. 

Via  Dolorosa,  492,  533. 


Victor  Emanuel,  177. 

View  from  Cheops,  616. 

Vineyards  of  Naboth,  399. 

Virgin  martyrs,  70. 

Virgin’s  Fountain,  381,  499. 

Virgin’s  tree,  596,  622. 

Wady  el  Hod,  466. 

Wady  Kelt,  463. 

Wady  Kuloniyeh,  575. 

Wady  Urtas,  551. 

Wailing-place  of  the  Jews,  529. 
Waldenses,  142. 

Walker,  George,  51. 

Walls  of  Constantinople,  233. 

Walls  of  Jerusalem,  511. 

Walls  of  Rome,  175. 

Walter  Raleigh,  91. 

Water,  streams  of,  297. 

Watering  the  lands,  621. 

Watts,  96,  129. 

Webb,  Captain,  134. 

Wedding,  Oriental,  317. 

Weeping  for  the  dead,  48.5. 

Well  of  David,  561. 

Well  of  Job,  482,  501. 

Well  of  the  Virgin,  596. 

Wesley,  Charles,  127. 

Wesley,  John,  96,  127. 

Wesley,  Sus.annah,  127,  128. 
Westminster  Abbey,  93. 

Westminster  Hall,  91. 

Whirling  Dervishes,  635,  637. 

Whited  Sepulchers,  328. 

Wilberforce,  95. 

Wilderness  of  Judea,  465. 

William  of  Orange,  51. 

Wilson’s  .Arch,  532. 

Witch  of  Endor,  390,  397. 

AVomen  gathering  sticks,  411. 

Women  grinding  at  the  mill,  481. 
Women,  oriental,  567,  569,  577,  578,  598. 
Women  veiled,  569. 

Women  with  ornaments,  407. 

Worship  of  Samaritans,  417. 

Wycliffe  prison,  105. 

Zacchecs,  287,  451. 

Zakazik,  591. 

Zealots,  275. 

Zeboim,  452. 

Zerin,  394,  398. 

Zion,  483. 

Zoan,  590. 

Zuar,  552. 


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Journeyings 


in  the  Old  World,  or. 


Princeton  Theological  Seminary-Speer  Library 


1 1012  00071  4701 


